The Burning Phoenix--An SYOC
by Christoph Andretti
Summary: Ten years after the events at Hogwarts, things are getting back to normal. Damaged repaired and reputation restored, Hogwarts is thriving with new students. However, when a new powerful and evil force threatens everything, will the students rise up to the challenge? Or become pawns in something more sinister than they could imagine? SYOC! Put your characters in NOW!
1. Prologue

_I can't feel anything._

A crack rang through the boy's skull. The rubble of cobblestone and brick cascaded on him like the rain pillowing over the night sky. Sheets of water poured down from the angry clouds as the moon's pale glow illuminated the outlines of the black clouds.

 _I've felt so much pain before, but I can't feel anything now._

The whole facade of the castle appeared to fall on him at once, leaving the pillars of the spiral staircase remaining. The jagged edges of the exploded stone cut into the boy's arms and face. Beads of blood prickled at his skin. The dirt and grime mixed in with the cuts, causing the sting to emanate over his body.

 _Maybe this is it. After all we've been through. After all we've worked through. Maybe it's over._

Thunder clapped through the air. A flash of lightening exploded, snaking across the night sky. From a small pocket of air in the cocoon of rock, the boy saw the lightening brighten up the cursed insignia glowing in the night sky.

He breathed harder. His limbs were frozen like the corpses of those lost in the battle previous. Sound was trapped in his parched throat. The pile of rubble grew higher over him. It towered above him like a blindfold tightening over his eyes.

The sign and the light grew dimmer with the raining rocks collapsing over him.

With one last thought, his blood ran like ice in his veins as the rocks hid from him the sky.

 _He's back._

* * *

Well, not much of a prologue, is it?

Hello ladies and gentleman. Welcome to the show! My first SYOC for this part of Fanfiction, mind you. I think there is a secret niche of people wanting them. But you only see them for Hunger Games and Danganronpa, so I have decided to make my own for Harry Potter.

This takes place about ten years after Harry and co. defeated Tom Riddle if you know what I mean. As you can tell by the prologue, however, things are not sunshine and rainbows in the magical world.

Needless to say, this SYOC will cover the span of one year in the life of Hogwarts students as everything is going great in the post-Voldemort world. UNTIL...an odd and evil power begins to rise again. Now, it is up to our heroes to restore balance to the magical world yet again!

What will Harry, Ron and Hermoine do about this? Most importantly, what will the students of the school do about this?! Join this evil? Fight against it? Do nothing? You decide!

Well, at least you decide the characters who I will then decide as to what they do.

So here and on my profile is attached a form to submit your characters. Pretty much any spot is fair game. They have to be students, however.

I frankly don't know where this story will take me. Maybe one of the students turns evil. Maybe one of the students turns out to be Voldemort reincarnated (although that would be quite stupid). It's up to what you all make!

It's not all drama, though. I expect this to be quite comedic actually until the end. But we will cross that bridge later.

* * *

SYOC FORM

Name:

Age:

Gender:

House:

Year:

Nationality (Hogwarts has become more International in the time between the Great Battle and today.):

Personality (This is the big one. Don't just list adjectives. Give me a feeling of what this character is like as a human being!):

Appearance

Body build:

Eye color:

Hair style and color:

How do they wear their robes:

Typical dress clothes:

Formal wear:

Swimwear:

Anything else? (tattoos, accessories, ect.):

Backstory

History:

Family:

Friends:

What do they do at Hogwarts?:

Other Stuff

Likes (at least 5):

Dislikes/fears (at least 5):

Strengths (magical or non-magical)

Weaknesses (same as above. Include equal or more weaknesses than strengths please)

How do they feel about dark magic:

How do they feel about other houses:

Habits/Hobbies:

Signature Spell:

Patronus?:

Reaction to killing someone (if it happens):

What story arc do you envision this character having (if any)

Romance (you up for it? If so, with whom?):

I'm sure I'll have other questions later, but this is the basic stuff.

* * *

Thank you so much. I will start and publish a real chapter as soon as I have something to work with!


	2. Crossing Boundaries

"Can't you just blow off that weird-ass school?"

Muggles always had coarser language than most. At least, that's what Alistair thought to himself as he smirked at the brunette in front of him. She had an annoyed glare pointing at some of the students walking past her. She thought they were a weird bunch. Some of the school kids even had metallic cages holding owls. Full-sized owls!

She crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently to the rhythm of the silky saxophone wailing next to a panhandling drummer by the rider's lounge. Cockong an eyebrow, she egged Alistair on.

Alistair chuckled, flashing his ivory teeth. "I'd love too, babe. But you know. Laws and parents."

She crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently to the rhythm of the silky saxophone wailing next to a panhandling drummer by the rider's lounge. Cocking an eyebrow, she egged Alistair on. She was cute, and Alistair knew this year would be a long one for him.

King's Cross was the same cavernous structure jutting over downtown London as it ever was. Travelers criss-crossed the enormous atrium like fireflies dancing in the summer night sky. Sunlight poured through the glass ceiling, filling up the building with a sheet of warm pre-autumn glaze. The marble beneath their feet, worn and flattened out from pounding feet, reflected an obscure image of Alistair as he shuffled in place.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, whatever. I go to New York City in two weeks anyway. But it was fun. Last night."

Alistair ruffled his cropped blonde hair and gave another cheeky grin. "I had fun, too. If we're in London again at some poin-."

"I have your number."

"And I have your address. "

Alistair looked around them for a second. Like a bandit snatching money from a cash register, he swooped in and gave the muggle girl a quick peck on the lips. He turned and lugged his luggage cart away. It wasn't overly packed. Only two cases for him. However, the magic inside held full wardrobes for his future year.

NEWTS were going to be an issue with Alistair. He lost himself in thought as engiens roared and whistled past him to different parts of England. Businesspeople hopped past him like rabbits searching for their next meal, hurried and frantic as he trudged onward. Yes, NEWTS meant harder classes. It also meant beginning on a career path. One that he could excel and be proud of. He just hoped his sixth year could still be fun. Alistair Leonhardt was a very social person, after all.

Rumbling over the marble, Alistair came across the familiar graphite stone between Platforms Nine and Ten. He took a breath and pushed off the floor with his brown pennyloafers. Through the invisible wall, and out to the other side. He looked up and gazed at the sight before him.

The Hogwarts Express was as pristine as ever. The scarlet body shined underneath the rising sun like rubies in a mine. The brilliant yellow of the veneers stremed across the train like a beam of gold flowing through the red river. A large swath of parents hugged their children goodbye on one side of the platform. On the other, students were loading up their luggages for boarding. Whistling from the engine jutted out into the air, piercing ears for a split second. Thin steam wafted around the platform, leaving a small film in front of Alistair's face.

"Rough night?"

Alistair turned towards his side.

He had to glance down, for it was a short girl that approached him. Beatrice Lalonde, in her french-accented glory. Her straight chestnut hair fell neatly behind her head as she looked up at Alistair with a small smirk. She had a relaxed, eased composure to herself. Part of that due to her clothes, a simple Slytherin Quidditch jacket with black leggings. She was small but sporty. Perfect for flying on a broom.

Alistair shrugged as he began to lug his baggage towards the train. "In a good way."

"Muggle girl again?"

"There's just something's about them that's get some me," Alistair say she with a slight shrug. "They're unique. They're exotic."

"Or maybe you're settling since no witch in her right mind would do that with you," Beatrice said as they approached the entrance to the train cabins.

Alistair turned around and looked back out at the platform. He waved at the crowd of parents saying goodbye to their children. "If that's settling, then call me a settler." he said to Beatrice.

"You're disgusting."

If Alistair didn't have good Quidditch vision, he would have needed a magnifying glass to see the kid. He barely came up to Bea's shoulders in height. Small and lanky, his brown hair was trimmed into a translucent buzzcut and his white free shirt unbuttoned at the top and collar jutting out. His frown pointed at Alistair, emanating annoyance with tense shoulders as he bucked up at the sixth year. As if he was trying to reach his height.

Alistair smiled and ruffled the small Boy's hair. "Shop still standing, Julian?"

Julian smacked Alistair's large hand away. "Shut up. And I told you last year to not touch me."

""Relax, Jules," Bea said.

"I can't when I hear you," Julian pointed at Alistair. "Saying these gross things. I'm gonna vomit."

As Julian turned away from the train entrance, Alistair and Bea followed him down the hall. The train pathway was narrow, but inviting with warm cocoa wood lining both s idea. Plush velvet railing ran attached to the walls as the travelled past compartments already filled without people. It was small and homely, not unlike the Gryffindor common room.

"Aren't you a little young to know what I'm talking about?" Alistair asked as they past the beige walls.

"I'm not stupid," Julian growled. "I know you were going on about kissing that muggle girl."

"Well, kissing is part of what we did," Alistair said with a smirk.

"It's no big, Jules," Bea said. "In a few years, you'll be doing the same thing."

"No, I won't! You take that back!" Julian barked as the Yankees found an empty compartment.

"Or what? You'll hit me?" Bea said in a joking tone.

"No more discounts at the shop!"

Bea grimaced. Considering the fact that Bea and Quidditch were basically the same being, the threat of cancelled discounts at Julian's parent's store was tantamount to attempted murder. "Fine," Bea sighed. "You will forever be alone and die without any girl to love you."

"Thank you," Julian said. "Girls are gross."

Alistair dropped his things in the open space he next him. He always packed a little light. His brown suitcase rested on the plush seating a small he rested his head on the cool wind pane. Students scrambled on the platform a s the white whistle sounded warning of its impending departure. Despite their age difference, Julian was close to Bea's height when they were sitting next to each other. He could fit a person in between the gap of themselves and the overhead storage rack.

"So tryouts are in two weeks," Bea said, a serious expression forming on her face.

Alistair turned his head towards her, a smile smile forming at the image of her competitive nature appearing. There was really only one rule when it came to Beatrice, adn that was to never mess with her in Quidditch mode. Off the pitch, she was a relaxed, easy-going individual. Albeit, she was lazier than most of the creatures living around Hagrid's hut on a hot summer's day lounging in a meadow. On the pitch, she became Satan Incarnate.

Julian's parents happened to be the owners of one of the biggest Quidditch shops in the country. So for a girl shooting to become a member of the French National Team after graduation, she had to make sure Julian was on her good side. It helped that her dad gave her a delectable discount on the newest model beater bat. Alistair was just happy that his best player was ready to go fro the season. Although he had to admit he didn't mind Bea's and Julian's company as they looked at him from across the enclosed compartment. Sure, the boy was a complete brat, but he still wanted to look out for him. The discount _he_ got from the store helped with that decision as well.

"And?"

"I think I deserve Seeker."

Alistair chuckled. "But Bea. The Slytherin captain not being the Seeker? That's against tradition. You know how Hogwarts can be when you skip tradition."

"You end up in the wrong house?" Julian chimed in.

Alistair's smile faded for a flash. He sunk himself into those who ends. A pan of shame quivered through giant shoulders, causing him to tense up. He felt the emerald shaken enisgni on the lapel of his dress shirt. His stare went blank, lost in he memories of that sorting. His other hand fumbled in his pocket. The wallet with his sister's face hidden away in it. A sister that he rarely saw since she was in Ravenclaw. Pictures of a mother and father that saw him in the wrong house.

Bea smacked Julian upside the head. He gasped out in pain.

"Chill out," Bea whispered. "You know that's a sore spot."

"But it's true." Julian mumble did while rubbing his is head.

Alistair shook his head and straightened you his button-down shirt. "No big, Bea. I'm past all that now."

"So where we're your parents then", Bea asked. "They didn't come to say goodbye?"

"Anyway," Alistair cut Bea off. "This season, I have a new strategy figured out. For the pitch, we'll have a five on four defense and th-."

Beatrice felt the lurch of the train as it took off. The people started to disappear from the fringes of the train leaving the station. Chugging erupted into a monotone rumble with every clack of the wheels on the tracks. A few more whistles, and the stone facade of King's Cross faded away.

"It's gonna be a long year, huh?"

Alistair stopped at her statement. His animated expression wiped away like the droplets of rain beginning to splat on the windows.

Beatrice snorted. She stared out the window; the flat hills of northern London became obscured by the sudden shower.

"It's nothing we can't handle," Beatrice said more to herself than anyone else.

Alistair brushed a strand of hair from his emerald eyes. "It'll be fun. Like last year."

* * *

Calista Frey had no time to spare for any human being.

The problem was not her schedule. She imagined her schedule of six classes a day was the same as everyone else's in fifth year Ravenclaw. Strutting down the hallway with a straight gait, she wore a neutral expression and headed towards the back of the train. Her thoughts focused on her summer projects far more than anything she had to learn at the school.

Was it her attitude? Sure, she could be rough around the edges, but people that knew her liked her enough. Aloof, yes. However, her confidence in herself made that an attractive attribute that she passed on to others quite well. She could out-charm anyone in her year, and she bet many of the seventh-years were sorely lacking in intellect to begin with.

Was it appearance? Calista did not care about being super-fashionable. In fact, the jeans clinging to her body with a loose purple t-shirt screamed muggle wardrobe to anyone that walked past her. Regardless, she was quite pretty. Her bright, sky blue eyes complemented the single braid going down her oak-tinted hair. She was lithe and limber, capable of any important spell movements or techniques.

No, Calista Frey had time for no one because she didn't care.

She could not care less that men or women looked at her in any way. She never watched a Quidditch match a day in her life. Any of the extracurricular classes outside of Charms Club were unimportant to her. Not to mention, few things seemed to invade her attention in any tangible way. Sliding into a compartment, she breathed a sigh as she noticed the lack of people. The seats were still cool and untouched by previous students. The trolley lady had not even made it here yet.

Plopping onto the seat, she pulled out a notebook and began to write.

What she wrote was unimportant. Poems were to blase for her. Stories were not quite her cup of tea (although she had to admit her lack of imagination caused her to have no ideas worth writing about). She just scratched her pencil on the paper. The graphite etched into the notebook as the train rumbled through the countryside. Rain still tickled the windows, leaving a small fog.

It was peaceful. In her last year for OWLS, Calista needed all the peace she could get.

So, naturally, something had to ruin it.

"Piss off, Hufflepuff!"

Calista groaned as she flung her notebook to the floor and slunked out of her compartment. She stepped out into the hallway and saw the source of noise. It was actually the compartment next to her.

The girl was a couple inches shorter than herself, but quite pale. She already wore her black and yellow Hufflepuff robes; they hung like a large overcoat over her slim frame. Her bright-blonde hair was almost as white as snow, perched up into a messy bun. Her face clear and flawless, Calista thought she looked like an angel. A very weak angel that could be steamrolled by anybody for any given reason. She looked into Calista's neighboring compartment, her hands squeezed together in a bundle of stress.

"No Hufflepuffs allowed! It's Slytherin only!" The squeaky voice said.

"I'm sorry," she trembled. "I didn't kno-."

"Don't apologize."

The girl squeaked as she turned to Calista. The Ravenclaw suppressed an eyeroll as she stepped into the compartment causing the poor girl trouble. She pushed the girl aside and looked at the three sitting in the small space.

Of course they were Slytherins. However, she had not expected the girl Slytherin to be covering the mouth of a muffled boy. The small boy couldn't have been more than twelve years old as he flapped his lips like a broken motorboat. However, the smaller girl tried to mute the boy from his continued rant.

"I figured you all would be doing this," Calista said as she narrowed her eyes.

The girl cleared her throat. "We didn't mean to. This one," She gestured down to the boy she was subduing. "He just doesn't know manners."

"I don't care," Calista said. "You don't say things like that to people. And if I hear you discriminating against someone due to house, I'll handle it."

"Excuse me, miss."

In her attention to point a direct threat at someone, Calista failed to notice the guy sitting across from them. He looked around her age, but a typical Slytherin. Blonde hair with a messy fringe undercut. The greenest eyes this side of the fields put on postcards of Britain. A slim, assured face that twinkled with a small, friendly smile. He was undeniably attractive, Calista thought. A real shame that it was wasted on bigots such as these.

"I'm sorry for him," he said in a soothing voice. He pointed from his green flannel sweater towards the boy, who was now calm but still glaring at the petrified Hufflepuff. "Julian is a little cranky before his naps. We didn't mean anything."

Calista crossed her arms. "I don't care. This sort of thing is normal for you lot. Unless you've forgotten the past five-hundred-years of Wizarding history."

"I never paid attention in that class," he said. He stood up and took a step towards Calista. She stood her ground, although she found her fingers dropping down to her jean pocket. Forbidden use of magic on the train was more of a guideline than a rule anyway.

"But I assure you Julian won't say stuff like that again," he said. "Now, I don't think I've met you before."

He stuck out his hand toward her. His fingers seemed slim and chapped form dryness. Calista kept her arms crossed. She sighed as the guy kept trying to lay the charm on her. The train crackled over a bridge as the compartment remained frozen. The girl even removed her hand from Julian's mouth.

"We've made it this far without knowing each other. Why start now?"

His eyes widened. Whether from shock or excitement, Calista was unsure. He grinned and let out a small chuckle at her words. Scratching the back of his neck, he shook his head.

"We just got off on the wrong foot. We would be more than happy to let this person from Hufflepuff sit here. That is, if you're willing to sit by me," He said with a quick wink thrown at her.

Calista had no choice but to roll her eyes. "How about this, Romeo."

She grabbed the collar of his sweater and pulled him close to her. Their noses almost touched as she felt his breath hitch at the forward movement.

"You get your Slytherin lot under control and we'll have an okay year. We've had a good run of not having inter-house shit happen, and I'd hate that streak to end with me doing something to you. I know spells that you couldn't dream of. So don't act like a jackass, and we'll be good. Okay?"

Calista pushed him away. She whipped herself around like a spinning top towards the Hufflepuff.

"You can sit with me."

She began to walk out. Before she slammed the door, a hand stopped the sliding cover in it's tracks. The same guy was blocking her satisfaction of slamming the door in a badass manner. It kind of ticked her off.

"My name is Alistair, by the way. Not Romeo."

Calista heard a glimmer of sincerity in his voice. It was like digging through sand and finding a small sparkle of diamond or seashell. The locked eyes for just a second, but Calist was growing impatient. She just wanted to get back to her writing. Yet, this "Alistair" seemed so genuine in this instance. After all, it was the litle kid that said that about the Hufflepuff, right? Maybe he really was sorry.

Or maybe it was a trick. But it's not like it mattered to her.

Calista smirked. "I know."

She twirled around and ushered the Hufflepuff with her, but not before slamming the door in Alistair's face.

* * *

Meanwhile, Alistair stared at the door like it was a dementor about to eat him. Where had that come from. The power and independence of a dragon. From a Ravenclaw no less! How did he never notice someone like that before.

"Bloody hell, did I just fall in love?"

Julian's dry heaving was only punctured by Beatrice's repeated smacks to his head.

* * *

 **Our first Characters!**

 **Mr. Alistair Leonhardt- 6th year Slytherin**

 **Beatrice Lalonde-6th year Slytherin**

 **Julian Burke-2nd Year Slytherin**

 **Calista Frey-5th year Ravenclaw**

 **Calliope O'Connell-4th Year Hufflepuff**

 **I know it is not the flashiest or most exciting opening, but it establishes character. We can see just how far they go in this story. But at least we got something off the ground.**

 **Please tell me what you think. Review! Review! Review! If you are an active reviewer, I may take your requests and ideas and put them in the story. If they are good of course. If you aren't I might just ignore you.**

 **But tell me what you think! How are the characters? What did you think of Julian not wanting Hufflepuffs in the cabin? What about Alistair and Calista? Is anything gonna happen there? Who know?**

 **And why has nobody died yet? Oh wait, this isn't the Hunger Games, is it?**

 **Thank you so much! Keep submitting! Still a lot of spots left to go!**


	3. Chugging Along

The razor nicked the tall boy's tanned skin.

A gasp, and the electric shaver clattered onto the marble sink. His finger snapped up to the small cut. It was minuscule, hidden by the short sideburns framing his dark brown hair. He could never fringe his hair quite the way his mother did. Then again, the French was on his mother side. He gravitated more towards his father.

In fact, his face was quite similar to his father's. It was full, well rounded with just the right hint of stubble on his chin. He appeared a tad older than his actual age. His flesh smooth, he ran a finger from his cut to the edge of his hair line. He tried to keep his hair it short in the back. The gel he applied earlier on to his hair fluffed up the front to a nice slicked back look.

Light jumped onto his cheek as the door opened to the restroom. Turning towards the light, he held his palm to his face as he saw the intruder. A black, muscular girl with black dreadlocks stood in the doorway, an unamused expression on her face.

"You know this is the women's restroom, right?"

He guffawed for a second. He shoved his razor in his black Italian designed bag and straightened up scarlet-and-gold tie draping his neck.

"I was waiting for someone."

He smiled at the girl.

After she kicked him out, he shook his head and strolled down the hall. The sun was setting, so the light poked at his eyes through the horizon's cover. The rolling hills of the North sailed past them like a mouse escaping an eagle. The train quivered on its axels, jumping side to side like a sturdy bowl of jello. Seeing his translucent reflection, he smeared away the trickle of blood and puffed up the collar on his custom-tailored cream silk suit. Looking down at the platinum Swiss watch latched onto his thick wrist, he paraded towards his compartment. He was an imposing man; a man that hated to be upstaged by anything other than the end of the world itself.

Robert Burghley was the King of Gryffindor. At least, since it wasn't an elected position, he felt that determining that himself was as good as wearing the crown. He waved at a gaggle of third year Gryffindors who were whispering in the corner about him. They giggled as he passed by. Although he found it a little odd that another group of third year boys did the same thing on the other side of the hall.

Robert shook his head. People were getting weirder by the day around here.

Reaching the familiar compartment all the way in the back of the train, he flung the door open.

"Has the party started yet?"

Castor Michaelson threw a chocolate frog at Robbie, who snagged it with one large hand.

"What'd you do that for?"

Cas was a lean man. Not quite a beanstalk, but his height stretched out to about an inch underneath Robert. He scratched at his mussed up, short chestnut hair, he already had on his white dress shirt and House tie. It hung like a string of yarn around his neck as he munched on a box of every flavored beans.

"I can't be fucking nice for once?" Cas asked in his thick British accent.

Robert leaned on the doorway of the compartment like a model posing for a picture. "You might have poisoned it?"

"You're not worth the trouble, fam," Cas said. "I'd just take a knife and finish you off."

Robert chuckled. He twirled around and began to head out. "I'd like to see you try."

"I would, too. Maybe I'd be Captain, then."

"Gotta make the team first, mate."

As Robert exited, he bumped into another figure. A hard figure that came up right to his eyes in height.

"Oh, sorry fa-."

Robert stopped in his tracks and smirked. Before him was a blonde guy in his same year. As assured in his skills as he was, his green eyes met his brown one. Stroking his hairless face, he gaped at Robert as he processed who he rain into. The train rumbled forward through another small shower; the thick sunlight evaporated in thin air and replaced by grey shadows. No, he certainly recognized this boy. He was an aggravating thorn in the rose of being at Hogwarts. A small, prickling tick that sucked away at his enjoyment every time he saw him. A person that he swore was created just to annoy him.

"Alistair."

The Slytherin boy smiled and flashed his teeth. "Robbie!" He said while sticking out his hand. "It's been awh-."

"Robert."

"It's been awhile," Alistair finished.

"Not long enough," Robert said with a sly smirk.

"You look good, though," Alistair said with his genuine grin. "You finally learned how to use a razor. Sort of."

At this point, people had noticed the odd confrontation. Heads poked out of compartments like wombats shaken from their sleep. The train rides were somewhat boring, so any action or potential for bloodshed was welcomed.

Robert's smirk twitched away for a minuscule lapse of time. His hand reflexively shot up to where he cut himself earlier. "You know how it works on the train. Magic not allowed. Although that wouldn't make a difference for you. With your Charms grade last year."

A couple of "oohs" were heard spiraling down the hallway like a galleon circling a metallic wishing well.

Alistair stroked his chin in, as if he we were in deep thought. "Well, it is difficult to earn your own grade instead of having others do it for you."

Robert froze as the murmurs grew louder. It was no major secret that he could care less about academics. Moreso, the Wandering Eyes charm he bribed some spell nerd to pull off for him before OWLS was obvious to everybody except the professors. Not only that, but his summer work was also done by some third year he had given a large sum of money to (physical intimidation helped as well, Robert learned). Robert's eye twitched in frustration as he swallowed for his dry throat. How could he have known?

"I was pretty busy this summer," Robert said. He drew in closer and loomed over Alistair, a small shadow cast over the Slytherin's face. "You know, planning on how we'd win the Quidditch Cup for a fourth year in a row. How we would shut out Slytherin in all of our matches like we did last year. How you'd see the Snitch just inches away before I slapped your little hands away from it. How you would beg Hootch for a rematch as we carried away the gold and your one shot at doing anything worth remembering at this school."

"That's funny, Robbie," Alistair smiled. "I didn't think about you at all this summer."

The "oohs" turned into loud gasps of surprise. Robert's eyes widened as he looked up at the hallway around him. The sun reappeared, peeking its rays from beyond the translucent clouds roaming the indigo sky. Night was approaching, as well as the trip to Hogwarts. The last thing he needed was to be showed up by some smaller guy in the worst house in the school.

"Watch your back, Slytherin," Robert pushed Alistair out of his way. He disappeared back into the bathroom.

Alistair's smile slipped away like the remnants of the daylight. He looked down the hall, catching the attention of the onlookers. The obsidian fuzzed carpet scrunched under his shoes as he spun around like a soldier. He hustled back to his compartment.

Seeing the door, he slid back into the compartment. Julian and Beatrice both stared at him, curious expressions plastered on their faces.

"What?" Alistair asked.

"Well," Jules asked in his brash, second-year mettle. "Did you kill him or not?"

* * *

Calliope O'Connell hated tension.

Mist evaporated upward over the cobblestone path towards the castle. The ebony carriage rocked over the cobblestone path up a steep hill. Tungsten street lamps, rusted from years of work, lined the sides of the road like soldiers protecting the students from the forest surrounding them. Calliope's seat jostled with every bump of a jutted rock punishing the wooden spokes on the carriage. It continued uphill, thrusted forward by invisible thestrals.

Callie hugged herself, the mist prickling her ghost-white face. She looked down at her black dress shoes covering the soaked plywood underneath her. Her posture slouched, she swayed side-to-side like the dull arrow on a metronome. She was a timid creature, and her downtrodden expression did nothing to hide it.

"You were in Runes last year."

Callie looked up at the girl in front of her. The girl that saved her from the bullies on the train donned her black and royal blue robes, although the sprinkle of rain clung to it. when they passed the lights, the droplets glimmered like small pieces of metallic confetti. She was a bold girl that walked with the poise and precision of the finest Ravenclaw. Her name was Calista, a year higher up than her. Her smooth face wore an expression of assuredness, like she knew everything about herself and about many other people as well. She had an interested expression, but a lax one as she leaned on the side of the carriage with her heart-shaped head propped up by her hand.

"I was," Callie said in a pathetic whimper.

The girl snorted and shook her head like she was swatting away a fly. "I've learned one thing about this school in my time here," she said as she pointed at Callie. "Loudness is rewarded at Hogwarts."

Callie sighed and slumped over her knees. The Ravenclaw let out a soft chuckle before sitting up straight. Examining the timid girl, she tossed a rubber ball in her hand.

"Forget the past couple of years," Calista said in a matter-of-fact tone. "The last decade here has just been loud. Even before the Great Battle here. If you want to stop what happened on the train, just stand up for yourself."

Callie nodded and cleared her throat. "You made it look easy."

"It's simple. I have an older brother," she said as she shrugged her shoulders. "Not a wizard, too. So you have to jab back in other ways sometimes."

The confident girl put her hands behind her head and leaned back. "But don't worry about those idiots. They won't get far. Not in this day and age."

Callie brushed away a strand of her pale blonde hair. She leaned out over the side of the chariot compartment. An ebony line of similar vessels trudged their way up the hills, rocking like boats at sea during a scattered thunderstorm. She stared out at the line; the amount of students that were crawling up to the castle behind them intimidated her. It always did.

Looking back at the Ravenclaw, she leaned back on the hard bench. The rumble was almost calming as they could only hear the carriage and the rushing water clashing with the wooden bridge pillars they had just began to traverse.

"It didn't look like they meant it," Callie said. "At least not the older ones."

"They were just upset they got caught."

"Yeah," Callie said almost as an afterthought. "But they at least apologized."

She considered Callie's words, looking out towards the pitch black water. Orange lanterns appeared to skate over the tranquil surface of the lake. The canoes with the first year students sailed through the center. The image was surreal; it was like fireflies dancing in the outer reaches of space. She remembered the hope that she had crossing that lake for the first time. Seeing the gigantic castle jutting out of the earth like a mountain. The burning lanterns illuminated the night sky, calling them forth like a boat captain spotting the lighthouse after a long, storm-ridden journey.

"Where do you think he learned it from?" Calista said as she stared at the new students sailing up to Hogwarts for the first time. "Hating other houses? Those two Slytherins were probably just as bad as that little kid a few years ago."

"Maybe it's something you grow out of," Callie said in a small whimper.

The girl snorted again turned back to Callie. "Now if only _that_ were so simple."

* * *

 **Thank you for your time everybody.**

 **So a smaller in between chapter with the characters I have. They are rolling admissions by the way. So as long as we need characters, we should still be sending them in and accepting them.**

 **I am so grateful for the amazing, constructive and lengthy reviews I have received. Keep it up! It may give me motivation to update sooner! ;)**

 **But what do we think?! How do you feel about Robert? Any thoughts on the spat he had? Did you agree with Callie or Calista in their heart-to-heart? What will happen at Hogwarts this year?**

 **Comment! Review! Let me know!**

 **Keep the characters coming Thank you so much!**


	4. Feast Time!

Warren Monger was considered an imposing person by many.

Not by personality. Overall, he was a quiet fellow. Underneath the floating candles that skittered off a lavender fragrance into the bustling Great Hall, he chowed on his bowl of rare sirloin. Meaty juices swirled in his mouth with the fine beef as he picked at the golden plate underneath him. He took a quick glance at the animated hall around him, abuzz with new year excitement and gossip.

The illuminated hall was as beautiful as ever. Ivory pillars dotted the perimeter with sun-kissed walls warming the interior of the hall. Clashing cutlery and shifting plates echoed over the sound of conversing students catching up on their summers. The mahogany table gleamed with the invisible ceiling above them transfigured to showcase the night sky. Clouds floating away like dreams into the ether, the brilliant orb of the moon hovered over the center of the hall. It was a cozy, inviting atmosphere with mounds of food of different varieties covering the silk table dressings signifying the different houses. Warren's plate obscured the blue crest of Ravenclaw.

Warren sat hunched over his food as if someone was planning on swiping it under his long, hooked nose. Seeing the distorted reflection fo himself in the waxed wood, he sighed. The pockmarks and length scars running down his face still followed him around like a ghost. His shaggy black hair, unkempt and nearly matted, framed the sides of his face coming up to his dark grey eyes. He would have been considered handsome if he had taken more care of himself. The scars etched in his porcelain skin probably didn't help, either.

Nowadays, there were always a few seats left around him like a castaway expelled to a tropical island. The empty holes in the cocobolo benches next to him made a mockery of his isolation. He started to wonder if he even cared much about it.

Without moving his head, he flickered his eyes up to the ceiling. The moon was looming heavy in its final phase before it reached the full stage. He had hoped to make it through the first week of school without having to gorge down the thick muck of Wolfsbane Potion. Alas, he would need the Potions professor to whip that up as soon as he finished unpacking his meager selection of robes; robes that were thinning out it's fabric from being abused and crumpled up instead of hung.

As he picked through a plate of gumbo, he heard chatter approaching towards him like a bus skittering to a halt on the side of a road.

"You need to fess up."

Warren cringed as he felt the presence of a Ravenclaw girl drop herself next to him. The bench warbled with a minuscule tremor. A thin girl crossed her legs. She was a gangly girl with limbs thin and unsure of movements like spaghetti. Her face jutted out with a strong jaw and pointed nose. Her blocky features reminded Warren of an elf, but he just gazed from the side of his isn't eye while eating. With an impish smile, she slouched while pointing at the other girl opposite her.

"About what, Erin?" The other girl asked.

"About Alistair Leonhardt," Erin said in an excited whisper.

"We just sat down. Can we go at least a night without you stirring drama?" Calista said like she was admonishing a small child.

"I don't stir. I observe." Erin said. "You got into it with him?"

"He was picking on some Hufflepuff."

"That's what Hufflepuffs are there for, isn't it Calista?" Erin asked with a laugh.

"Hilarious." Calista said as she swirled lemon into her water.

"Everyone is talking about it."

"Aren't there more important things to talk about? Isn't there a Ministry election this year?"

Erin shook her head. The gossip mill was more interested in things like this than a silly election. "Nothing as juicy, Calista. I also heard he was talking about you to his friends on the way up here."

"On the carriages?"

"It's not my place to tell," Erin took a sip of her pumpkin juice. "You just have to figure some things out yourself. It's the Hogwarts way."

"The Hogwarts way?" Calista raised an eyebrow. "Just tell me what's going on."

"You know Hogwarts is no fun when you explain everything," Erin said. "Just keep an open mind."

"That's the problem," Calista said. "Most people here don't."

"The whole House war stuff is dying down, though."

Calista scoffed. "I wish. There's still a lot of people stuck in the past. Some of that is our fault. Some of it are the adults. Did you know they're thinking of putting school houses on ID cards? So when you try to get a job, you need to put what House you are in? It's just stupid. That's why you have to keep your ear to the ground. People think the whole Wizarding War thing is gone. Harry Potter saved the day with his, to be honest, more intelligent friends. But just flip a switch," Calista flicked a finger in the air. "And we're back to square one. And people like that little kid and his friends are the first ones to turn."

Erin took a bite of her fish and chips. She swallowed. "By intelligent friends, were you referring to Granger? Or Ron Weasley?"

"Oh yeah, I definitely meant Ron Weasley, Erin. He was the smartest of the three," Calista said in a deadpan tone.

Warren sighed. If it wasn't be mandatory, he would rather be by himself. After all, he needed the biggest jump on his Arithmancy classes that he could get.

As a saving grace, Warren looked over to the professor's table. Standing on the raised platform by the ornate headmaster throne, a fragile-looking lady with a stout expressions on her worn, wrinkle-laden face rose from he sparkling chair. In deciduous tree green satin robes that glimmered in the warm light of the Halle, she arose on her wobbling limbs and sauntered to the sleek granite podium in the center of the stage.

Immediately, the cacophony of sound slammed to a halt like Ann owl snaking a window. Anticipation boiled in the student body. Warren straightened up over the bench, potato-shaped ears poised by hear the like lady's words.

Her dropped eyes scanned the room, waiting for attention.

"Greetings, fellow students," Headmasters Minerva McGonagall's voice boomed into the room. Her voice matched an agile witch from many decade so ago. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

She paused. Some were unsure whether to clap or stay silent as she let the words ring through the hall.

"That line worked so well last year," McGonagall said with a shake of her head. The giant umbrella hat on her headband quivered with her every move. Looking at the see of old and new faces, she rested her hands on the simple podium. "But now it is time for some announcements."

"Is she finally dying?" Cas said to Robbie from the Gryffindor side of the hall, adjacent to the center walkway. Robbie snickered.

"Now, as I was saying," McGonagall added, eying the Gryffindor table as if she heard the remark. Robbie stifled a laugh with his mouth as Cas gulped. "We have some change she here at Hogwarts."

On the Slytherin side, Alistair crossed his arms behind his head. Julian, sitting next to the older boy, swung his thin legs out of boredom.

"First off, I'd like to give a big welcome to our new Potions professor. Unfortunately, this person is not here today. Muggle transportation is not quite a small reliable as Floo network. Expect this professor in your first classes."

At the Hufflepuffs table, Callie narrowed her eyes in contemplation. "What happened to last years? Isn't that the tenth year in a row?"

She was met with half-heartedly shrugs.

"Beyond that," McGonagall continued. "Faculty should remain normal and standard for this school year. Your Care For Magical Creatures professor, Rubeus Hagrid," McGonagall gesture for at the giant, bearded man seated at the table right be next to the headmaster's chair. His wide girth almost overtook the edge of the table. "Has requested for the eight century in a row that no one is permitted to to enter the Forbidden Forest unless they are planning a horrendous death."

"Or worse," Alistair whispered with a grin. "Detention."

McGonagall's ears again detected a vibrations in the air. He looked over at the Slytherin side. Alistair wore a watery smile, hoping she did not just call him out.

"In any case," McGonagall said. "This year, volunteer school cleanup is now mandatory for all students."

A loud groan erupted from the student body. People smacked their lip so and flashed faces of disgust. Looking at each other, they wondered if this was a giant joke. Robbie and Cas raised up their hands and barked at the stage. Callie, on the Hufflepuff side, huffed and looked down, anxious a to the idea of having to interact with strangers.

Beatrice swiped a sip of her tea. "Lady's getting the wrong meds from Pomfrey."

"Sadly, ever since Mister Filch retired, nobody has been willing to take up the task of keeping our school clean," McGonagall announced." So, we must've take that task. You will see your schedules in your respective common areas."

Warren mentally cursed. Biting his thumb, he wiped his eye and prayed that those shifts wouldn't Ben on full moon times.

"We expect this year to be eventful. Miss Hermoine Granger is scheduled to speak to all students on a lecture for her new book. I've seen better page-turners, but it will be nice to have her here again. For new students, if you have any questions about passwords and curfew, look to your Prefects for help. They will be the ones that have badges on their lapels a and a massive sense of entitlement."

Some chuckles ruminated across the Hall like a small pebble causing a ripple in placid puddle.

"Now for something serious," McGonagall said with a strong bite. "The Ministry of Magic, in their wisdom, have determined Hogwarts to be the safest place on earth for both our student safety and our possessions. Therefore, I must inform you of a dark and powerful ancient object that has been hidden away inside the school."

At this, people snapped their attention back on McGonagall. Alistair frowned, furrowing his thin eyebrows as he straightened up his posture on the bench.

"I would have not told you," McGonagall continued. "But it would have gotten out anyway, and I feel that one the schools administrations past gravest mistakes wasn't keeping to many things from students. This artifact was drugged up from the deep magical forests of Albania. I will not divulge why it was cursed, by whom, nor what the object is, but I assure you that it is hidden deeper into the dangerous recesses of this school than you could fathom."

The hall tensed up as the air felt like it had dropped in temperature. The fake night sky above seemed to cool the hall like a giant ice cube transferring it's cool hanging over the head of the students. Calista thought it was as if a giant Disillusionment Charm had been cast on everybody. She had to admit, being a Ravenclaw, the idea of a mysterious object that gave the bearer these powers was something worth studying. Or better yet, taking control of herself. If only she was a Gryffindor, she would be stupid enough to try.

"One more thing since I see some of you already getting ready for the hunt," she flourished. "This object has a unique power that can provide the wielder great powers unknown to magic as we know it. However, the object is very particular in choosing it's master. If a person who the object deemed unworthy of possession we were grab said object, they would face a fate greater than death. A fate that would make the death of a wizard named Lord Voldemort seem like a time out in a muggle kindergarten class."

At this, some of the student body shuddered and physically twitched away from McGonagall. She smirked a true the tense atmosphere.

"And I must say, due to last year's paltry student grade average, I have an ill feeling that anybody is considered worthy."

McGonagall raised up her arms. "But now that I have put the fear of Mister Riddle in your hearts, dig in and eat."

* * *

"Are you all thinking what I'm thinking?"

Alistair strolled into the giant Entrance Atrium with Beatrice and Julian on either side of him. With a swish of his grass green Slytherin cloak, he smiled at the moving portraits of past Hogwarts denizens. Gripping the stone handles, he slid his hand across the smooth rock as he traversed up the steep steps. The rest of the Opening Ceremony was pretty normal. The prefects helped the new students learn about Hogwarts decorum (for example, it was rude to through bread pudding at someone. Even if they were in the "wrong" house). Alistair kept his head poking above everyone like an eagle scouring the skies for it's prey.

That brunette bombshell that ran into him at the train was missing. From where he was sitting, he only saw the backs of Ravenclaw cloaks and some other strangers. There was a power to her; a confidence as strong as the goblin-forged vaults of Gringotts that piqued his curiosity higher than the rebuilt Astrology tower. From her perfectly-shaped head to her bright, lively blue eyes, she was nowhere to be found.

However, something equally pressing weighed on his mind. Something that, according to the Headmistress, promised eternal fame and notoriety.

"We go on a wild goose chase for an object that's will most likely kill us?" Beatrice said, jostling next to Alistair.

Alistair turned back, looking at the two. "I could use help."

"What the hell am I supposed to do," Julian asked with a bark.

"He is only twelve." Beatrice said.

Alistair pointed at Julian. "You could be the dummy we test the object out on."

"That's not funny!" Julian cried out. He crossed his arms and stopped in the middle of the staircase.

"Maybe it needs a sacrifice," Beatrice piled on. "If we feed you, we can have unlimited power."

"Piss off, both of you," Julian growled. "I'm going to bed."

Julian stormed back around to the dungeons. Alistair out his hands on his hips and sighed. Turning back towards the atrium, he observed the different students filing to their common rooms like soldier ants lining up to re-enter the anthill. Clacking of dress shoes on stone steps reverberated through the din of the massive atrium. The mocha stone walls dotted with portraits shouting out their genial greetings. A few new students roamed about, guffawing at the magic that they encountered at every corner. From the corner of his eye, he saw a man walking slower than the other people in his house.

Entering her atrium, Warren trudged past the stagnant knights guarding the hallways. The torchlight licking off the marble statues, Warren kept his head down and skunked ab about.

"Excuse me?"

He kept going, disbelieving that someone would single him money out for conversation.

"Warren?"

At this, Warren stopped and pivoted like a slow revolving door towards the source of the voice. It was a timid-looking Hufflepuff. A pale girl, almost as pale as the ghosts that floated above the fray of students. Her dim green eyes showed apprehension as she adjusted the messy bun her hair was contained. Her lips and jaw tight, she stared at the scarred student.

Warren raised an eyebrow. "Hello?"

Callie jumped up in her spot, as if she had not expected Warren to reply. "Oh, yes. Hello. I'm Callie. From Ancient Runes last year."

Warren crossed his arms. "Right. You skipped a year in Runes, right?"

Callie nodded. She clasped her hands together in front of her stomach. "Right. And I saw on the class schedule that they bumped me up to Sixth Year runes this year."

Warren waited for the point. Students filtered out of the Great Hall. The stream was broken by the two conversing by the entrance like two rocks breaking the water in a crystal stream. Callie gave Warren a small, terse smile.

Warren motioned her to continue. Callie gasped as she retrained her thought.

"Sorry, I was zoned out for a second. But I just wanted to know if you like...wanted to study. You're probbaly smarter than me on this, so I need help."

"And your coming to me because..."

"You didn't seem that busy," Callie said.

Warren looked around him. It was suspicious that this girl two years lower than him would want to study. Let alone anybody wanting to be by him. However, he considered the quiet, nervous girl in front of him. She appeared harmless. Besides, if she had ulterior motives like outing his secret, he had no qualms with dealing with her.

He sighed and brushed back some of his shaggy hair. "As long as you don't annoy me."

Callie nodded like a bobblehead. "Great. See you tomorrow!" She said as quick as a hippogriff zooming through the sky. She hurried away from Warren, her face reddening like a sunburn. Covering her mouth, her stomach felt queasy while running away from Warren. She skipped up the stairs, barreling up to pass by a curious Slytherin who whipped around to follow her running off.

Alistair tilted his head, curious as to why the Hufflepuff that Julian bullied was running away from Warren. He knew Warren had been through a terrible accident a few years ago, but it was quite rude if she was running away as if she was escaping a werewolf or something similar!

"Excuse me," Alistair said with a wave at the girl. "I wanted to apoligi-."

She paid Alistair no mind as she zoomed by him to her common room.

* * *

"Are you sure your okay?"

Alistair huffed, lassoing breath in his lungs as he leaned back onto the icy bathroom mirror. Sitting on the ivory basin, he closed his eyes and slunked his head down. His tie discarded on the tile floor below, his robes were disheveled and wrinkled while the girl climbed off him.

"I'm fine, Ell."

The Gryffindor girl was hoping to have some fun before the school year started. She was an enthusiastic girl. Adjusting the scarlet dress shirt underneath her robes, she sighed while combing through the black bob of hair. Playing with the curl at the end, Ellora stood up in front of Alistair. He always looked silly during these moments. Then again, most people did from what she was told. This was a little arrangement that the two had agreed upon early the previous year. It was just a silly but fun game the two played together. Muggles called it something related to friends with some kind of benefit. Ellora was a girl that lived in the present anyway. She had no cares, just the satisfaction of enjoying someone like Alistair.

"Are you sure your okay?" she said in a mocking, Irish voice.

"Why?"

"You usually last longer than twenty seconds."

Alistair grimaced at the girl in front of him, ashamed of his performance. He tightened the belt on his cashmere dress pants and wiped his brow of sweat. The dripping of a metal pipe echoed throughout the cavernous, empty bathroom. Soap suds built up in a sink next to Alistair. Pale moonlight beamed through the giant bay window just next to the basin.

"Just distracted with the new year. I've been thinking of McGonagall."

Ellora laughed. "You thought of McGonagall while we were fuc-."

"No!" Alistair shouted. "I meant what she was saying! About that object."

Alistair straightened up and stood in front of Ellora. The irises in his eyes were widened from the lack of bright light. She tilted her head like a curious puppy, her obsidian hair shaking with a small tremor.

"I haven't really accomplished all I've wanted to in this school," Alistair said. "This is supposed to be like a home, and it is. And I've had fun. But we graduated in two years and we have to go to the real world. What if I did something that was worth remembering now? I can't predict the future, so if I get the glory now, I won't have to worry about having a boring life after."

Ellora smirked. "You sound so Gryffindor right now."

Alistair sighed. "I know. Slytherins are supposed to be cowards or something, right?"

"Mostly evil," Ellore said. She took a step forward and adjusted his collar. "I think I left a mark on your neck. Cover that up before tomorrow."

Alistair chuckled. "Thanks. And there is another thing that's bothered me."

Ellore let go of him and squinted. "A girl, right?"

Alistair wiped his mouth and slumped his shoulders. "I like what we have. This has been great. But I've never had a relationship. Like, a real relationship before. And I think I found someone that can be perfect for that. Not just a one-night thing. But something real."

"That't great, Alistair," Ellore said in a fake cheerful tone like an airline stewardess. "Who is this mystery woman?"

"I don't know."

"Her name?"

"I don't know."

"Year?"

"I don't know."

"Age?"

Alistair shrugged.

"House?"

"Ravenclaw?"

"Damn," Ellora spat out. She shook her head at her own reflection in the mirror behind Alistair. "Those are the toughest nuts to crack," she said as if talking to herself.

However, she looked back at Alistair and slapped his shoulder. "I'm going to help you out."

Alistair's eyes lit up like a child seeing gifts under a Christmas tree. "Really?"

"Sure," Ellora chimed in. "All we have to look forward to is studying for NEWTS and graduating next year. Why not play matchmaker?"

Alistair breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Ellora. But you know this," He gestured at the two of them. "Is over if this works out. I'm not that kind of guy that cheats."

Ellora rolled her eyes. "That's fine. I think Robbie was interested in asking me out anyway."

Alistair shivered. "Honestly, that's scarier to think about than McGonagall."

"Really?"

Alistair looked up in thought for a second. Then, he shook his head to disagree with himself.

* * *

 **Welcome to Hogwarts! May I take your order.**

 **Thanks again to everyone submitting. Keep them going. Right now I'm just centered around these characters, but the story will expand when I get more characters! They just happened to be first and also they are great characters!**

 **So some things are brewing now. We have mysterious object! What is it? Is the Headmistress telling the truth! Are we going to have a school-wide treasure hunt on our hands! What was up with Callie and Warren? And who is Warren? Is he interesting to you?**

 **What about Alistair? Is he going for the treasure? Or is Calista a first priority? And what was he and Ellore doing in that bathroom? I can't imagine what! ;)**

 **But the first day of school is coming up? What do you think will happen? What do you want to happen? Don't be afraid to review and let me know!**

 **Keep the characters coming for me! And please review as much and as constructively as you can! It makes me giddy seeing the care and length you all make your reviews! Keep it up, and I may pump these chapters out even quicker!**


	5. First Class

Many people recognized Aisen Yuki by the grass stains on his Gryffindor robes.

The rest of himself appeared normal. A little on the smallish side as far as body composition is concerned. He was just growing out of the awkward phase of voices that cracked like a ravine during an earthquake. The smallest dusting of light peach-fuzz scratched his sunken, light cocoa face. The boy's fair was a dirty blonde, almost as dirty as the style it was in, spider-webbed in mussed up curls with an occasional cowlick. He was an odd kid between the throes of adulthood and the carefree mechanisms of childhood. His violet eyes crossed with a small tremor as he examined with the precision of the best healers at Saint Mungo's. Based off the lackadaisical way he threw on his robes earlier in the day and the wrinkles lining his white dress shirt, appearance was not the biggest concern to the teenager's life.

Biting his thin lip, he loosened his tie, spindling with gold and ruby, and he tapped his wand on the device in the grass below him. The small patches of grass in one of the castle's many quad spaces was where Aisen spent his days. The stone fountain of a knight riding a Hypogriff stood in the center. Jets of sparkling water jutted out of the end of the knight's lance. The stone ledge around the fountain flickered in the rising sunlight with flecks of gold engrained in the memorial fountain. Concrete pathways joined up at the center before gliding away to the edges of the small schoolyard. Droplets of dew grew on the evergreen blades of grass before they collapsed from sheer weight and dripped onto the soft soil.

Aisen lay on his stomach, focusing on the invention beneath him. It was a small device with two rectangular screens opening up like a makeup compact mirror. The red finish on the plastic gleamed in the newborn light, showing that Aisen kept good care of the object. He took a stubby finger to the side of the console and pressed a silver button on the bottom pad. He stared at the screen facing him, but all that noticed him was his disappointed reflection enlarged and disfigured on the blank, unresponsive window.

"What is that?"

Aisen gasped and rolled on his back. Resting on his elbows, digging them into the grass, he looked up at the towering figure. Robert held a small frown at the kid, his shadow obscuring the day sun and leaving Robbie in a dark silhouette. Aisen hunched up his shoulders at seeing the older kid, but he tried to play it cool.

"Oh, Robbie," Aisen said in a cheerful tone.

"What is that?" Robert pointed at the device.

Aisen sighed and climbed up to his feet. "Maybe you could help. Since your older and smarter and all."

Aiden grabbed the console and put it in between him and Robert. The Sixth Year sneered at the electronic, his hand twitching inches from his wand in case it was a mysterious weapon. It was too early in the morning for shenanigans that would embarrass his house and most importantly his social standing. Being by the nerd was tough enough as it was.

"This is my Nintendo 3DS. But it's not working for some reason."

Robert poked at the instrument with his slender finger. The plastic was cool, but unresponsive.

"And what does it do?"

Aisen smiled. "It plays games. Muggle games. But those are really the best ones. Monster Hunter, Legend of Zelda, Mario Kart. All of those! Although, personally, I think Majora's Mask is better than Ocarina of Time. Not only that, but Mario Kart 7 is still the best of that franchise. You wouldn't believe the people around where I live that think the newest one is the best."

Robert stared at Aisen like he was a sea slug with nine heads. He took a step back, out of his element and shifted his eyes to scan if anyone was spying on them.

"It's muggle tech," Aisen continued, taking a step forward and raising the volume of his voice to emphasize his passion. "And I know that doesn't work at Hogwarts, bu I really wanted to try it out. So if you have any spells, let me know! There's this connectivity to the internet where you can play Super Smash Bros, but people stopped playing with me since I always pick Luigi. You know about the internet, right? It's where Muggles do all of their work. In a way, it's actually better than how we do it. They can get messages across automatically. We still have to use owls or even worse, talk to people sometimes. Do you think McGonagall could lift the rules against muggle tech? She'd listen to you, so if you could ask for m-."

"Shut up," Robert hushed.

Aisen froze in place, his grin evaporating like the walking students heading off to their first classes. They scurried past the quad like patrons racing past the aquarium in a seafood restaurant. The warm air swirled around them, calm and pristine as the countryside untouched by other humans that surrounded the castle.

Robert waved around him in frustration. "Kid, what are you raving about? Nin-mend-ro? Osario Nina? I do-."

"Ocarina of Ti-."

"Don't care," Robert said. He looked down at his watch. His eyes widened and his teeth barred as he saw the time. "You're eating up my time for the day. I overslept, so now I gotta get to fucking Flitwick's class."

"But the 3DS."

"Listen Alex, do yo-."

"Aisen."

"Don't care," Robert snapped back. Aisen took a small hop back, worried as the scruffy-faced man glowered at him. "Do you want Gryffindor to be known as the weird House?"

"Huh?"

Robert took a breath. "We're nobility. We're brave, daring, willing to do what it takes for glory. You spending all your life in the quad with these," Robert gestured at the 3DS, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Games is bringing us down. I have a reputation to keep, and you can't hurt that."

Aisen looked down at his device. In his small hand, the 3DS seemed harmless to him. He never understood why Wizards had such an aversion to muggle material. He knew Robert acted like he had an allergy to such things. Anything he deemed unworthy of his time and energy was treated like the lowly squibs that hobbled around Hogsmeade on a winter's night.

Robert ticked with his tongue and shook his large head. "Maybe you should do something normal like wizard chess," he snapped at Aisen with a mirthless grin. He flicked his sunglasses back down onto the bridge of his nose and shuffled past Aisen. His broad shoulder bumped into the smaller boy, knocking him back and making his grasp for the 3DS in mid air. He juggled it before securing it in his grasp.

Robert hummed to himself as he exited the quad and entered the cool, damp castle hallway. Small lanterns exhuming an orange glow on the walls, he strolled in his designer-brand loafers. They clacked on the floor with a sharp step, echoing through the hallway. With a sharp strut, he turned the corner and went through a stone archway that jutted out from the wall. Two lanterns glowed with a dull luster as he blew past them, fanning the flames with a gush of air.

The Charms classroom had changed little in the past few years. It was still a circular auditorium with graphite stone walls swirling around in a half-circle by the main podium. Students sat at rows of ascending stone tables, cracked but sturdy from years of use. The giant bay window behind the podium breathed sunlight into the room, giving it an inviting and airy feel. Paintings of past Charms professors sat dormant on the walls, dust beginning to coat the fringes of the non-magical frames. Students chatted and quills screeched on paper as the luminescent odor of lilacs blossomed from fermented candles on the Professor's ebony granite desk.

Flitwick himself had changed little. The short, grubby man still had his slicked back hair that was beginning to lose it's battle with a receding hair line and old age. Wrinkles eteched themselves into his forehead. Even his robes appeared disheveled, long and slouching off of his shoulders like a giant overcoat. His cocoa moustache, however, remained as prim and proper as a man half his age. Pushing back his thick-rimmed bronze eyeglasses, he shuffled parchment on his desk while flickering his sight to the cuckoo clock next to his quill.

Robert sat down, fist-bumping Cas as he shuffled sideways to give him room. They were the second-to-last row from the back, directly behind a pair of Hufflepuffs.

"So who we got?" Robert said while leaning back in his rigid wooden chair.

"Headaches," Cas rolled his eyes. "A bunch of know-it-alls. That kid last year that threw up snakes on the pitch."

"Anyone else."

Cas motioned his head towards the front of the lecture hall. "Pretty Boy over there"

Alistair smirked as he looked over the heads towards the bottom of the auditorium. Alas, a full-head of blonde hair with a messy undercut fringe chatted away with his Slytherin Quidditch teammate. Not a fabric of his black-and-ivy robes out of place. His strong jaw flapped as he spoke to the other girl, absentminded that Robert was spying on him.

"I don't know what people see in him" Cas said. "Everything about him is annoying."

"He's peaked now, Cas," Robert said with a shrug. he reached down to his leather pouch and heaved out his Charms textbook. "This is as good as it gets for him. In about twenty years, he'll be some overweight cow living in a thatched hut yelling about how pumpkin juice has Veritaserum."

Cas scoffed. "That's a very specific vision you have."

Robert shrugged. He took a small piece of parchment in his hands. Balling it up, he packed it tight like a snowball. Rearing back, he flung it forward.

Alistair could have sworn he felt something hit the back of his chair. He turned around and looked down. A ball of parchment sat on the dull stone underneath his thin chair legs. He gazed back up. Sure enough, he saw a pair of Sixth Year Gryffindors talking to each other. Most likely, they were distracting from the fact that the ball came from them. Alistair almost called them out, but from the entrance to the room, he saw her walk in.

She looked just as captivating as he remembered. If anything, she appeared a tad taller than on the train. If he had to guess, they were roughly the same height. Her hair was in the same side braid format as he saw. The rest of it plush and neatly styled back in a gentle part. His eyes widened as she drew closer to him, stepping down the the front row where he was seated. Her electric cerulean eyes glimmered from the sun while she stared ahead, almost bored by the atmosphere around her.

Getting to the floor of the hall, she scanned around for an empty seat. With class starting any second, there was only one main option. Off to the side where Alistair was located.

Alistair leaned forward and cupped his hands together.

"Pss."

Calista looked up, thinking a ghost might be playing a prank on her.

"Pss."

Calista looked back. The moment she saw a flicker of the boy's emerald eyes, she whipped around as if she saw a dragon. Even though they had only met the day before, she had recognized that dumb cheerful smile of his. This was not what she needed on a tender first day's morning.

"Merlin, really?" She whispered to herself.

"Hey you," Alistair jokingly whispered. "I think there is only one seat left."

Calista rolled her eyes and sighed. She pivoted on her shoes towards Alistair. The other girl from their train compartment sat next to him. She waved at Calista. With no courtesy, she approached the seated Slytherin like she was approaching a dog that could bite her.

"What are the odds of that," Alistair smiled while gesturing around them. "This is the only chair left in the whole class."

"What are the odds, indeed," Calista said with a small frown.

"Charms class is my favorite, anyway. I've been told I'm great with my hands," Alistair winked at her.

Calista slunked up her bag on her shoulder and turned to the Gryffindor girl two seats down next to Beatrice. "Do you mind if we swap seats?"

Ellore shook her head. "Sorry. My hearing is bad, so I need to be here."

Alistair mentally hugged Ellore, winning his chance to have the Ravenclaw girl sit next to him. Calista examined the chair like it was a gross sea slug. Finally, she acquiesced. Blinking heavily, she flung her bag over the table. Rounding the corner of the long benches, she dropped herself onto the hard seat and propped her head up with her hands. She took her left hand and, rolling out some parchment, began to scribble on her paper.

Alistair smiled at the grumpy girl. He leaned forward just a smidge and tilted his head like a curious puppy. "So you're left-handed."

Calista stopped and looked at Alistair from the side of her eyes.

"I'm left-handed, too," Alistair said.

"Amazing."

Alistair stroked his chin. This interaction was not going as well as he intended. The girl appeared to be quite focused on other activities in life than him. On the other side of her, Ellore pointed at the girl and mouthed something to Alistair. The Slytherin frowned, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. Ellore shouted in silence again at Alisatir. He hitched his breath, finally understanding.

"Do I know your name?"

Calista panned over to Alistair. His handsome face was inches from hers.

"No."

"Can I know your name?"

Calista put down her quill. She was not going to get any peace this morning. "I'm a fifth year, and I'm from Ravenclaw. Isn't that all you need to know?"

Alistair sighed. He knew the interaction on the train was lingering over them like Peeves over a giant red velvet cake. He scratched his neck and shifted his body to face hers. "Listen, I don't believe in that kind of stuff."

"So where'd the little kid learn it from?"

"Not from me," Alistair said in a defensive tone. "We tried to stop him. I never did anything like that. Besides, I have a lot of friends in different houses. Okay, maybe not a lot of friends, but I do have friends in houses other than mine. And besides, do I really look like I would be Houseist against someone like you?" He finished with a tight grin.

Calista considered his words. Looking into his eyes, she did remember that they tried to dissuade the boy from his discrimination. On top of that, she knew the reputation Alistair had as a ladies-man. Erin had told her rumors of his proclivities with women, and the based on the list of girls the gossiper had thrown in front of her plate of oatmeal at breakfast that morning, House held no factor in his selection process.

Calista shrugged to herself. Having a person on her side that was actually popular couldn't hurt. Worse case scenario, he would try something and she would simply curse him into another dimension. She had heard rumors that he was not the most adept wizard at spellcasting. She extended her left arm.

"Calista Frey."

Alistair's face lit up like a boy in a candy shop. He grabbed her hand, a pleasant warmth trickling into his. It felt like a good fit. Calista thought it was beginning to get awkward, however, when he continued to hold it with that stupid look on his face, lost in Calista's eyes.

"Are we done?"

"Oh," Alistair said. He snapped back his hand like she had burned them with a clothes iron. "I guess so."

Ellore gave Alistair a thumbs up just as Professor Flitwick cleared his throat.

"Hello, witches and wizards," He squeaked in his light-as-a-satin-pillow voice. "Welcome to Charms. Many of you are in your sixth year. I know one or two of you are so advanced, I and the Head Mistress have decided to bump some of you into this class."

Calista smirked to herself. Her Head of House loved when Ravenclaws surpassed other students. There were a few fifth years that were in the class, but all of them fellow Ravenclaws. She scanned the room. One of the fellow Housemates was seated directly in front of Flitwick's podium. A large, bulky sixth year with curly, russet hair and freckles dotting his caucasian face. He seemed very prim and proper, as opposed to Calista who was more on the disorganized side. She did not know him, but he had the model teacher's pet role down to a tee without uttering a word.

"Some of you are here for your careers. Mister Simeon, how is your mother?"

The curly haired kid, with his quills and notebook neatly lined up next to each other, nodded in acknowledgement at Flitwick.

"Doing well, Professor," Simeon said in a gentle, almost lethargic voice. "She had no problem in finding the sapphire Harkeyblurb tears in Panama."

Flitwick hopped up in excitement. "Excellent. No broken bones this time?"

"Just a missing finger."

"Well, they make more," Flitwick said. "Mister Monger, how was your summer?"

Alistair perked up and turned his attention to another Ravenclaw. It was the strange boy he saw the bullied Hufflepuff talk to last night. Slouched in a corner, he looked up and skulked away at the attention he received. Eyes darted across him like small mosquitos pecking his pale skin. He brushed some hair from his eyes and nervously fingered his cheek.

"Fine," he said.

"Practicing charms, Warren?"

"No sir. I'm still under seventeen."

Alistair thought the boy to be suspicious as people laughed at the unintentional joke. Nobody had figured out what happened to him the summer he came back to school with the scars running down his face. He was such a happy, enthusiastic person. When he returned to school, he stuck mostly to hiding in shadows and wearing black clothing that seemed to shelter him from prying eyes and loos lips. Alistair felt pity for him. If his face was as abused by someone, he would curl up in a ball and hide away from the rest of the world as well.

Soon, Flitwick began his lecture with an enthusiastic musing about the history of a certain spell. This was around the time most people tuned out. Robbie yawned not one minute into the lecture. Cas drummed his fingers on the stone in front of him. Robbie had no idea why he was stuck in Charms. It was compulsory for students, but for his needs he wanted to leave. The future seeker of the British Quidditch Team deserved better than being hold up in a castle all day.

Calista paid fierce attention, scribbling down almost every word the half-goblin man said. Alistair stared at the girl. Part of which admiring how cute she looked when she was concentrating on the paper in front of her. There was something about her confidence, about the way that she carried herself that instantly drew his attention. He could not think of a time a complete stranger wrapped up his mind like a Christmas present. Perhaps she was part-Veela. However, he also wondered what kind of mental fortitude it took to be this engrossed in Flitwick's lecture on the Water-Making Spell.

Beatrice started to doze off, drifting into the sleep world like a canoe sinking underneath the surface of calm waters.

"Now then," Flitwick began. "Let us practice our charms."

Beatrice gargled as she sprung back to life. Her head dazed, she shook off the fatigue and blinked with the speed of her Firebolt broom on a Quidditch pitch. She whipped her head around as she saw people pull out their wands. With a deep breath, she pulled out the light wood and rapped it on the table.

"Okay, I will let you all practice the wand movements and spell. Just a small stream, students," Flitwick said.

Murmurs broke out in the classroom. A few droplets sprung out of the ends of some wands.

Robert put little effort into the incantation. "Aguamenti," He muttered. The end of his wand puffed with mist. He sighed and slammed his wand down. Shaking his head, he crossed his arms and sat back in exasperation. "When am I gonna use this shit?"

"When your on fire. Duh." Cas said, giving up as well.

Robert looked down at his watch, spying the ticking hand wafting away the seconds to the end of the class. "So what do you think about that object McGonagall was shouting about?"

Cas groaned. "Another fucking headache. Every year its the same thing."

"Agreed," Robbie said.

"Could you imagine the fucking migraine I'd get if I was around the past decade? With Harry Potter causing all that shit?"

"He'd kill a lot of our buzz," Robbie acknowledged. "But hey. We get to say we have the guy who killed Mister Noseless."

"Yeah, and guess what Slytherin got?"

Robbie smiled. "But it would be nice to add one more thing, wouldn't it. Robbie Burghley. Wielder of Unlimited Power." Robert said while wiping his hand across the air, envisioning people chanting his name in a god-like hero worship. The title was enticing as well as the promised benefits. He had no doubt he would be considered worthy. Sure, his grades were barely enough to pass him into NEWTS, but Potter and Weasley were mediocre students at best. Surely, it was more about what was inside than out? If that was the case, Robbie felt his penchant for glory would be more than enough to give him the permission needed. Maybe if he got the treasure, he would be able to land this damn Water-Making Spell.

At the bottom of the class, Simeon pouted out a spout of water before it evaporated into thin mist, mixing with the potent incense swirling around the room. It was a murky jet of water, not unlike the waters mulling about a swamp. It was water nonetheless.

"Well done, Mister Simeon. Ten points for Ravenclaw."

Alistair huffed from the opposite end of the room. He knocked on the table in frustration. "Helps when you're Head of House is the teacher."

"Helps when you know what your doing," Calista shot back. "You're moving your wrist all wrong. It's an 'S,' not a 'V.'"

 _"Aguamenti_ ," Alistair said.

Nothing.

Calista rolled her eyes. She grabbed Alistair's wrist and clasped it in her hand. "You move it like an 'S.'" She said. Pulling his hand, they moved their left hands in a serpentine motion in the air. A few drops of water borne on the end of Alistair's wand. His eyes widened with surprise. It was actually working! However, Alistair was left wondering what Calista's deal was. Why was she grabbing his hand liek this?

"Now say it," Calista said in a lower tone, almost a whisper into Alistair's ear. It sent a shiver down his spine.

" _Aguamenti_."

This time, the water shot out of the wand. A steady, fierce stream of crystal water flowed out of his wand. He gasped, disbelieveing that he was able to get it. Just as he took in the accomplishment, Calista let go of his hand. The pressure of the stream was too much for Alistair. Surprised, he yelped before his wand pulled him to the right. The stream targeted Beatrice, who collapsed to the floor under the pressure of the water jets.

Dropping his wand, Alistair stared at where Beatrice once was. Now, she was soaked on the floor of their first class of the entire year.

"Well done," Flitcwick said. "You did it."

Alistair forgot Beatrice for a second, turning around with a grin. He did something right in charms for a change, and he would milk it for all it's worth.

"Thank you," Alistair began. "But I couldn't hav-."

"Ten points to Ravenclaw," Flitwick said. "Great job teaching the boy, Calista."

Calista turned around and smirked at Alistair. "Need some paper towels?"

* * *

 **A longer chapter to make up for missing the past few days.**

 **So what did you think of the new character? Was he interesting? Boring?**

 **How was the first class? What ddid you think of the characters? What was the best/worse parts? Is Robbie going to go for the treasure? What is up with Alistair and Calista? Why is charms so difficult?**

 **Tell me what you think! Please review and comment as much as you can. I am floored by the great, constructive and lengthy reviews I have gotten so far! If you keep them coming, then maybe I will keep the chapters coming as well! ;)**

 **Keep sending in characters as well! I will finish accepting when I say so! Until then, submit! And tell your friends, too. Maybe I will listen to requests in the fic more if I know you are sending more people over to review! ;)**

 **Wow, two winks in one Authors Note. I might be channeling a bit of Alistair.**

 **Regardless, thank you so much! Review, and I will see you soon!**


	6. What A Story

Lunchtime was abuzz with activity like the ship docks after a cruise disembarked in the Caribbean. Students meshed with each other, siting on the long wooden benches. The younger students were ecstatic, gallivanting about all of the magical objects and tools they encountered on their first day. Some of the older students smiled, nodding in agreement as they remembered their early days at Hogwarts. Some of them rolled their eyes and focused on their steamed honey ham.

Warren was neither of those students. He sat in the large courtyard out if front of the giant Oak door entrance to the school. The cobblestone rectangle was dotted with bushes; small granite benches were installed in front of them like guards. Grass pathways criss-crossed the white rock like rivers flowing through a desert. Young and old students trampled through the courtyard, excited for the buffet of food that awaited everybody.

Munching on an apple, Warren wiped away the juices from his angular jaw. He examined the passerbys like a spy tailing a target. In fact, his ice glare left some of the younger students flickering concerned expression at each other as they high-tailed past him. He knew he had to soften his face more often, especially with his scars causing problems in the aesthetics department.

Sitting on one of the benches, hunched over and gazing out to the large stone arch signifying the rising steps to the entrance courtyard, Warren massaged his ring finger. This is how he spend a good portion of his day. He just brooded and finished up his homework for the day. It was all quite boring to the average human being, which is why there is no point in divulging further in this individual seated at the bench.

"Hey, you."

Warren looked up from the ladybug crawling through one of the stone cracks to the voice above him. Blocking the warm sun beaming down on him, Calista had her arms crossed as the crisp sky blanketed the space above her. Warren stared at her, squinting with a mystified look.

"Warren, right? You're the guy that sits in the corner of the Common Room and reads poetry?"

Warren cleared his throat. "We are in the same house, aren't we?" He said in his gravel voice.

Calista lowered herself onto the smooth bench, crossing her legs as she shed her thick, black robe. Wearing her school uniform underneath, she turned partially towards Warren. He pursed his thin lips together, unsure of what was happening to him. She pulled out a thick, velvet-bounded indigo notebook and opened it up on her lap.

"That's gonna get dirt on it." Warren motioned to the robe.

Calista ignored him and pulled out a quill. Muttering a small charm, the tip of the quill fizzled to life, leaving small black droplets evaporating from its mist. A classic ink-regeneration charm. She flicked the top of the white feather and started to scribble in her notebook.

"So what kind of mysterious objects could be hidden in Hogwarts?"

Warren blinked. Still hunched, he skittered his eyes from the wandering students behind Calista to the girl who motioned him to speak. She saw that he was stumped, so Calista sighed and pushed back the braid on her hair.

"McGonagall. Last night."

Warren brushed off a maroon leaf that brushed onto his shoulder. "And I'd know...why?"

Calista eased her gaze back down to her notebook and wrote on it again, like a scribe ticking down the words at a court proceeding. "Who else would know?"

"Not me."

Calista snapped her head towards Warren, an unamused expression on her face. The breeze picked up and threw around some stray pebbles rolling on the smooth courtyard terrain. Flecks of dirt floated past them. He felt his ring finger again.

"I just don't understand why she would even mention that. Her whole line about Administration keeping secrets was dumb. I mean, Hogwarts is basically built on secrets. Literally. Is she just messing with us?"

"Are you looking for it?"

Calista sighed, staring into the distance like a weary, bearded sailor after a mid-summer hurricane. With the breeze swishing over her head, her eyes watered with the faintest dry spell.

"I really want to know what it is. That's it. I've been at this school for a few years, and I feel like I haven't done much here."

"Why?"

Calista shook her head. "It's dumb, but I want to be remembered for more than just being top of the class. A trend-setter. Someone that solved the mystery first. We haven't had a good mystery around here in a while. And this castle is full of them."

Warren took in her words and looked ahead. The rumbling ding of the castle bell reverberated it's dull sound across the campus. Whatever this object was, it was going to be the talk of Hogwarts for some time. Then again, there were a myriad of storylines that would spider-web across the castle. Why Calista was asking him about this, he was unsure. As he slumped back over his knees, Warren had a strange dearth digging at his chest like the ringing bell pumping at his earlobes. It was strange, but not entirely unpleasant. He clutched his chest, his eyes narrowed and wandering as if he were searching for something.

"Maybe the ghosts."

With a cough, Warren looked back up to Calista. She shot to her feet like a griffon poised for attack. Her quill tumbled to the ground as she clutched her notebook like a wand to her side.

"The ghosts," Calista said while still looking out to the castle. "They have to know something, right? But where would I start? This is just so weird to hound them over something like that"

"It's the first day. Everything is weird," Warren said. "But I remember in Ancient Runes, there is something around these objects. A force you can detect. But few people can actually use it to find them. That's why goblins are so good at finding and keeping safe things like this."

"So if you got close to this object," Calista waved her finger in the air. "You would know it. Then I think I know what to do."

Just like the leaves fluttering around the courtyard, Calista stepped away to the castle. Warren was alone yet again.

* * *

Potions were never Julians strong suit. Then again, Julian was a little too young to have a strong suit. The lanky boy grumbled to himself in an annoyed hum as he clanked his metallic cauldron onto the plywood table. The room itself was largely unchained. Hidden by the dungeons, the dim room was cramped and unfriendly. The oval room had a small stone basin next to the professor's desk for students to wash themselves after bathing in fermented animal carcasses and drinks. The cold damp of the underground meshed with the licks of flames tickling the bottom of vials and strange tubes with odd substances.

Drumming his spiny fingers on his textbook, Julian's head rocked forward and swayed. His eyes fluttered with the slow drum of students chatting to themselves putting him to sleep. He wanted to put his head on the table and sleep, but he had no idea what had been on these tables before. Last year's professor did not bother to clean the room very much. It was too early in the day to be dealing with other people. So, of course, other people had to come to him.

A tap on his shoulder.

Julian ignored it.

Another tap.

Julian brushed it away, playing it off like a sleepwalker swatting a fly.

"Are you asleep?" A nasally voice bellowed in his ear.

Julian yelped and shuttered away from the voice. He breathed like he had run a marathon and glared at the person to his right. He was another second year, a boyish smile emanating from his youthful face. A tad shorter than Julian, his temperamental jet hair had gelled spikes in them. His Hufflepuff robes neat and ironed donning an orange cardigan, the boy leaned towards Julian.

He held up a hand and shoved the boy away. "Personal space, Huffle!"

The boy, undeterred, flipped open the cover of his textbook and pointed at the desk. "Who do you think is our new teac-."

"Did I talk to you before?" Julian snapped.

The boy looked up at the ceiling, his dark cerulean eyes fluttering towards the wood panels above. "I don't think so."

"Then don't talk to me," Julian said before turning back to his cauldron. "I'm busy."

The door to the professor's office burst open. The large oak clashed with the wardrobe of glass jars lining the shelves. Crystal vases shivered in place, threatening to fall from the large burst. The class swashed into a wave of silence, anticipating the professor's debut.

He was a very tall man with a serious looking face. A sneer appeared planted on it like the Whomping Willow sashaying in the clear day outside. His face slightly sagged and wrinkled, his grease-encrusted ebony locks rained down the back of his head, enunciating his pronounced forehead. He wore a tuxedo with an obsidian silk tie in a Double-Windsor hanging around his neck. He appeared to be a stern, mean man with a massive ego trip about himself as he strut to the front of his desk. Stopping by the desk, he lifted up a golden bird cage that was hidden in his left hand. Placing it on the desk, a small rooster crowed with a massive screech.

"Oh, hi everybody," the man said in a genial, thick-Eastern European accent. "Welcome to class. Ha ha ha."

Julian thought the guy to be extremely creepy. His pet chicken was also a major deduction in popularity in his eyes. The bird continued to squawk, causing Julian to plug his ears in mock deafness.

The Potions Master continued. "So I recently come to here from San Francisco. I was banker for long time, but then I have dream. And I make dream come true," he said in his slow drawl.

"Is he drunk?" Julian muttered to himself.

The professor leaned on his desk and waved his hand in the air like a conductor. "So I'm Professor Tommy. Always Tommy. The rules of the class are simple. Show up on time. Don't fight. Learn to love each other. If a lot of people loved each other, the world would be a better place to live."

Professor Tommy crossed his arms and sat on his desk. "So what do you know about potions?"

Julian groaned as a hand raised next to him. Professor Tommy pointed at the boy.

"We were learning about the magical properties of Flobberworm Mucus," the annoying Hufflepuff said.

"Cool," he said. "Then we make Sleeping Draught today. Make sure you do that. You have hour. I pet my doggie in the meantime." Professor Tommy reached into the cage and rubbed the feathers of his rooster. He even started to cheep along with the animal.

Julian shook his head. The class began to light up with activity. The Slytherin boy leafed through his textbook, running his small finger down the list of ingredients. He had a had enough time pronouncing some of the items, let alone picking them out of the Potion classroom cupboard that sat brimming to the bulge with necessary things. Julian grumbled to himself as he flicked on the small flames underneath the cauldron. Grabbing a small heap of Lavender, he crunched the fluff green in his hands and squinted at the recipe.

"Add four sprigs of Lavender? The hells a sprig?"

"It's four of the stalks," the boy said next to Julian.

Julian grunted and flung his handful of Lavender into the cauldron. "I knew that. I was just testing myself."

The boy leaned over and propped his head up with his hand. "I'm Rusty, by the way."

"I don't care," Julian said while combing through the recipe again.

"My name is actually Lazarus Cavaliere, but I became Rusty," he said in a cheerful tone while Julian tried to concentrate. "I thought Lazarus was too big of a name. I think Lazarus was some character in some story, but I'm not sure what the story was. So I stuck with Rusty. I'm not really sure how I got that name, either. I kinda like it, though. Oh, wait," Rusty said while snapping his fingers. "I do remember. I was by one of our neighbors car one day. I guess I thought the car would look better a different color. It was just a muggle car. Ferraris? Something like that. I made a bunch of rust appear on it, and that's how I got that name. The neighbor wasn't too happy. He tried to kill my mothe-. Oh, damn."

The beaker slammed onto the ground, twittering through the air in a million glass beads. Julian shook his head at Rusty, who held a sheepish smile as the beaker laid on the floor. The crashing sound caused the class to look over at Rusty.

"No blowing up school," Professor Tommy said from his desk, his eyes closed as he sipped on a cup of some beverage. "Too early in year for that."

Julian continued with his potion. Rusty scrapped up the glass and left it in a small, glistening heap next to his cauldron.

"So anyway," Rusty continued. "Quidditch tryouts are soon."

"Don't care," Julian said, biting his lip as he added a few droplets of Flobberworm Mucus into the potion.

"I mean, I know we are in different houses and all, but I still want to take you guys on this year. You got a real team."

"A bunch of losers," Alistair said while wiping down the edges of his vial of Sleeping Draught. "We're going to crash and burn again this year."

Rusty picked out a small jut of glass from his hands. "Not with that attitude," he said loudly."

"We should be better than everyone. We should have the whole world," Julian said. "But some crackpots decide to run around with some mangy burn-victim look alike and try to take over the world. I mean, it's not my fault all of that happened. Why are we still being blamed? We still have to report to McGonagall. Still no Head of House. Random searches every other day-."

"Are we still talking about Quidditch?"

"Yes!" Julian blurted out. "Fine. Let's talk Quidditch. Our Captain is some love-struck dumbo from a silly romance novel. Our best chaser is my size but a girl. Everyone else doesn't know a Nimbus from a Comet."

Julian thought back on his words as his potion simmered and gasped with bubbled brewing at the top. Slytherin was supposed to be the best house. The house of pride and purity. Now, they were becoming more and more second class citizens. At least, that's how Julian felt when he saw some of the older kids wrinkle their noses when they saw the flash of green on his robes. Then again, his attitude of flicking them off did not help matters.

That could explain why Alistair had been so interested in both that dumb Ravenclaw girl and the object that old bat had mentioned at first. If there was one thing Julian appreciated about him, it was that he was set on restoring the Slytherin name. Alistair was too dumb to be evil, so maybe he had a chance of changing their public image. Finding this magical object could be the key to unlocking both incredible power, but most importantly to Julian, restoring Slytherin as the top of the House order.

Julian nodded to himself, seeing his reflection in the lilac substance swirling underneath him. Maybe this wild goose chase could lead somewhere. If the object was real, then that power could be used in so many beneficial ways to him and Slytherin. They might even win the Quidditch Cup for the first time in thirteen years! Otherwise, Beatrice at least had becoming a member of the French Quidditch National Team in a few years to look forward to.

Rusty cleared his throat. "So your name?"

"Piss off, Huffle."

* * *

 **Sorry about the weight. Life does things to you.**

 **Lazarus Cavaliere! 2nd Year Hufflepuff! A new character!**

So a couple of things I wanted to get across. First off, does the timeline really matter? I mean, yes this is set tn years after Deathly Hallows, and I know technically that lands us at 2007 or 2008. Do you really care?r can we just suspend our disbelief on this one and bathe in the future pop cultural references?

Also, I want this to be just as much fun for you all as it is for me. So I wanted to ask if you all wanted a bit of a reward system. I want this to be a game, interactive for you all! So I've done Hunger Games SYOTs in the past. OC creators accumulate points that they can spend on for objects for their tribute. Maybe I could do the same. IF you review well, you get a certain number of points. After a benchmark, you can order me to write a specific scene or plotline. The reward would be a list of things you can pick from. Maybe you want your character to have the invisibility cloak? You pick that reward. Maybe you want your characters to hook up with someone? That could be a reward. Anything ranging from objects to requesting plot lines.

If you guys think that is a good idea, I can tabulate your points already. I think reviewing will be like 5 or 10 points. The big points would come from crazy things like making fan art. Hell, if someone made a fan art of my silly SYOC, I think I'd just give them my first newborn as a reward. But get creative with it!

Other than that, keep up the amazing reviews! I've never seen such a group of people do so well at this, but reading your feedback is the highlight of my day right now! Keep them coming! What did you think of what transpired here? What's up with Warren? Why is Calista interested in him? Are we going to make headway with this object soon? And what about Potions class? Anything entertaining happen there?

BTW, whoever tells me who the potions professor is, you get 25 points if I do the points system thing!

Thanks, and let me know what you think. See you soon!


	7. Confrontations

Defense Against The Dark Arts was always a popular class to many students. An excited buzz reverberated throughout the spacious room on the Third floor of the castle. An iron chandelier hung from the ceiling, as well as a dragon's skeleton. On one end of the classroom, a projector rested dormant and dressed in monochrome cobwebs. The blackboard at the front of the classroom was darkened, void of any chalk marks. Several desks and tables were lined in rows as well as the vivid sun plastered in the center of the tall windows soldiered on the walls. Stone steps of a spiral staircase led up to the Professor's antichamber. In front of it, a giant circular table was bare; the oak shining underneath the peeking sunlight.

Seated in the second row towards the window, the boy tapped his quill on the mahogany desk. The chipping of the tip worn duller as the feather tickled his pointed chin. He was a very young looking boy. Nary a blemish or crease lay on his slim, diamond-shaped face. His slightly hooked-nose pointed up towards the window, his hazel eyes examined the rolling hills overlooking the Great Lake, which reflected the foundation of the Hogwarts Castle in the setting sun's tungsten light. He appeared to be a proud kid; his thick chestnut hair swept over in a side fringe with the gleam of sleekeazy gel holding it in place. His white dress shirt tucked into his robes, he was neat and proper in most every way.

Edmund Wright sat alone at the desk. More pretty than handsome, he stared out towards the window, occupying himself with his summer memories. This year was shaping up to be a peculiar one. Not that Hogwarts ever had a boring year, he planned to stay out of trouble. There was a strange, dread burrowing itself into his stomach. He squinted, his back tensing as he thought back to the Headmistress' words the day previous. When he blinked, he had flashes of memories. Or were they fantasies?

A body slumped over in a chair. The smoldering grey enveloping the room as a shriek echoed in the nursery. Louder and louder like a church choir chanting. The flash of a knife before the sickening slosh of the plunge. A cursed object that gave power to it's owner, but took away so much from their souls.

Slam.

Edmund gasped. Looking to his right, he frowned at the lopsided smirk flashing at him. The textbook he crashed onto the table was cracked open to the first page.

"You didn't say hello to me last night," a smug, American voice purred.

Edmund huffed. He brushed back his hair, shaking his head at the taller man that plopped himself on the seat next to him. The lean man's soft, chocolate pompadour shook as he tilted his sharp head towards Edmund. His amber eyes jumped around the room like a hyper cheetah, his cheap smirk resting like a fixture on his olive skin. His robes and dress clothes hung loose on his body, giving off a slipshod, shady image that put Edmund in a weary state to no end.

"I don't believe I would have meant it, Alexander," Edmund said in a low tone.

The Ravenclaw man slung his arm around Edmund's developing shoulders. "You only texted once this summer."

Edmund brushed off the man's warm hand. "I don't text. I use magic."

"Stop being so pureblood," Alexander said in a joking tone.

"Not like I had anything to say," Edmund said. "Nothing happens at my aunt's house."

"Nebraska's not much better," he said. "It's much harder to mess with people without magic."

"It's also harder to steal things, right?"

Edmund could not call Alexander Tyson a friend. He was a great means to an end. If he ever needed something done, Lex was the guy to do it whether it was finding a secret to breaking into a safe. Not that Edmund needed those things, but it was undeniable that his shady acquaintance was an entertaining person to be around. Regardless, he did consider Lex a man of integrity. He would always keep his word, especially if that word was to lie about what was said. Edmund suspected him being an American might have something to do with his behavior. Considering the news he heard about muggle America, there had to be some bug of looniness roaming around.

Lex sighed, rubbing his eye. "At least Hogwarts is still gonna be fun. That know-it-all girl is annoying me already."

Edmund blinked. "The girl from your house?"

"Calista," Lex said the name with mock regality. "Stuck up Brit. Although that's most of you guys."

"I'm not stuck up," Edmund said.

"You're a Brit, and you're gay," Lex stuck his tongue out.

"Not entirely," Edmund shot out of his mouth.

"You're not entirely British?"

"Shut up," Edmund said.

"Anyway," Lex said while turning back to front of the class. Calista's single brown braid hung from her head, shaking as she collected her textbooks and plunked them on the table across and in front of theirs. "She's been talking about that little scavenger hunt McGonagall has started. I saw her speaking with that weird guy from my house. Warren? I think they're teaming up to find the...whatever the hell it is. And I know that knucklehead that jerks it to a picture of himself every night in your House is thinking of it, too."

Edmund felt a small shiver roll up his spine. He had never had a pleasant conversation with Robbie. Flashbacks to him shouting about how amazing he was in the Gryffindor common room made him cringe. "I would rather not get involved in a silly thing like this. I would like a normal year where all I worry about is passing OWLS. "

"But you're a Gryffindor," Lex cheered. "You guys are supposed to find the treasure first."

Edmund sat upright in his chair. "That's not what Gryffindor is about. Being reckless and reaching for a prize."

"So the past decade of bragging about winning the House Cup?"

"I don't care about that?"

"What about when you drank all that firewhisky after winning the Quidditch Cub last year?"

Edmund gaped at Lex. "You promised to not bring that up!"

"Attention!"

The pair snapped their eyes back to the front of the class. As if he apparated into the room, a tubby man, bloviating and loud, stood in a business suit. His crimson tie knotted into a simple Windsor knot, his orange skin gleamed under the iron chandeliers. His hair, blonde and combed-over, was wild and fake in every way. He was a self-assured man. His cheeky smile shone as he made animated facial gestures.

"Congratulations," he shouted. "You have been allowed to be in the same class as me. You have been chosen to be taught by me in the class of Dark Arts. You're welcome."

Lex leaned towards Edmund and cupped his hand around his lips. "This guy seems familiar."

"As I was saying," he spoke with a loud volume like a child reading from an unknown text. "I am Professor Don. I have been an extremely successful person in most everything I have done. Now, frankly, I did not need to take tenure at this school. However, I decided to give myself the chance to give my knowledge to all of you."

Edmund rolled his eyes. Yet another person who thought the world of themselves existed in the castle. Professor Don cleared his throat and adjusted his red tie.

"So now, we are going to learn things that I have learned from others but have perfected. To be honest, only the best can get this, and I think I am the best. Which is why you should all be the best as well. Since I am teaching you. Everyone get up and move your desks aside."

Shuffling feet pounded on the hardwood floor as the desks skittered to the edges of the classroom. Students milled about in the center of the room. Edmund licked his lips, roaming his eyes around the room. Outside of Lex, he did not know anybody else personally. He preferred to keep to himself most days, but since this strange feeling began in his head, he just wanted to avoid most everybody.

"Okay, class," Professor Don said. "We are going to start practicing the shield charm. Use the disarming charm on each other. The other person is going to try to stop you. Now, frankly, I don't think many of you can do it. But if you can, then you can be like me. A smart, self-made man who rose from the bottom to become really, really rich. And great with his wand, as some people have told me."

The students lined themselves up. Edmund pulled his sycamore wand from his black slacks and held it within his nimble fingers. He swallowed, Lex relaxed and prepared with his wand pointed at him.

"Could you go easy on me?" Edmund asked. "I didn't had my coffee this morning."

"Go for it."

" _Expelliarmus."_

A scarlet jet burst from Edmund's wand. Racing towards Lex, the American chuckled at the small stream of magic.

 _"Protego."_

The indigo shield encapsulated Lex. Once the spell reached the protective cover, the shield stayed firm. The crimson magic bounced backwards like a ball hitting a wall. Spiraling towards Edmund, he gasped and ducked. The spell riveted past him, just missing the small cowlick on top of his head. It ran into the wood siding panels. A large crash punch into the wall, causing the spell to evaporate and leave behind a dense crater in the wall.

Edmund sprawled himself out over the floor. Gasping for air, his heart thumped into his chest like a house elf punishing himself by jamming his head into the nearest wall. Looking up, Lex had approached him and reached his hand towards the man on the ground. Edmund grabbed Lex's hand and heaved himself to his feet.

"Absolutely terrific," Professor Don said. "I knew my American over here could do it."

"I learn from the best," Lex said, scratching the back of his neck.

Edmund sighed. Lex gave him a quick pat on the back. For Edmund, the polite, but strong-minded Brit, this year of Hogwarts would prove to be very challenging. Hopefully, it would still have the same old antics that made Hogwarts a home. The question was, did he feel home anywhere?

"Uh, Edmund," Lex thunked Edmund on his forehead. "It's your turn to go."

* * *

Dinner was an ostentatious affair as usual. Steaming ham and glistening chicken breast lined the table next to giant fountains of chocolate pudding. The aroma of the cooked food swirled in the air, giving off a pleasant and saccharine odor that permeated off every students plate. Golden saucers of honey-soaked aruba rolls floated by Beatrice. Seated at the Slytherin table, she smiled at the whining kid who was munching on food in front of her.

Edmund drank his porridge, slurping on the hot silver spoon as his stomach warmed up from the liquid. He was alone, but engrossed in the crinkled pulp horror novel on the table next to the bowl. The edges worn and pages watermarked, he scoured the words on the page for what felt like the thousandth time. To be honest, it was a very boring book. The characters were flat, one-dimensional cardboard cutouts. The plot was a predictable, generic battle between good and evil. Despite this, the name of the author was what kept Edmund reading.

"You alright, Edmund?"

Edmund looked up. Aisen Yuki sat down in front of him. Piling on a stick of mutton, he bit into it as Edmund adjusted the cuff on his shirt. "I am well. Just figuring out what this year will be like."

Aisen shrugged. "Probably like last year. Robbie annoying everyone but his gang in our common room. Classes getting tougher. Some mystery that has to be solved. You reading the same book again," Aisen said while pointing at the book.

Edmund looked down at the worn ivory cover. The name of the author, Henry Wright, gleamed in embroidered gold on the cover.

"It's been ten years," Edmund whispered to himself, engrossed in the cover. He still had no clue what happened on that night. But why was he thinking about it so much the past day? Was it just nostalgia for another year at Hogwarts? Was it because of that cursed object discussed the night before? Was he lonely?

Aisen grimaced before nervously chuckling. "Well, anyway, I haven't seen my sister all day. You know she can get a little shy, being new to Hogwarts and all. She's a little girl. Kinda looks like me? Whatever, she'll show up eventually. Hey, I found my manga collection that I hid under your bed last year! It was still there and not touched by anyone. I know you like rereading your books, so I can relate. That last chapter of Fullmetal Alchemist just killed me. When Edward had to tell Al about being in that space, that was just pure drama! It reminded me of that scene in Wolf's Rain with the eye! Hey, if Alchemy is a class this year, is it going to be just like that? I hope nobody loses their limbs! At least, not like transfiguration last year."

As the boy droned on, Edmund could not help but turn around, looking for somebody. Towards the Slytherin table, he checked the middle of the long table. He hoped to see a blonde, full head of hair with a haircut similar to his. It immediately brightened his day, seeing the infectious grin on the Slytherin Sixth Year's face. However, he slumped his shoulders at not being able to see him. Instead, it was just that little kid he was always around, ranting so loud he overheard it past the din of students on the Hufflepuff table that separated the two houses.

"He was a moron," Julian blurted out while stuffing a brownie in his mouth. "He wouldn't shut up."

"That's a lot of people, Jules," Beatrice said. She swirled some sugar into her pumpkin juice. The pumpkin color melted the white particles into the juice.

An obsidian box slammed next to Beatrice. Julian leaped up in his seat. She panned over to the metallic, plain box.

"It's here."

She looked up and saw Alistair with a wide grin on his handsome face. A twinkle in his eyes, he took his hands and snagged off the lace black ribbon around the package. Lifting off the cover, paper flew over Alistair's shoulders; caressing the air before resting onto the immaculate marble of the Great Hall. A boyish smile on his face, he uncovered the black rectangle box as the wrapping paper gave way to a silk sheet that wrapped around the object. He took away the ruby silk, pulling it off the surface like a jewel thief running off with an artifact. When he uncovered what the package was, he stopped and admired the gift.

Edmund perked up as well, tilting his head and widening his eyes at Alistair. This was the safest time to look at him, when he was distracted by other things.

The broom was as black as the bean soup simmering in the bowl next to Alistair's forgotten notebook. However, the ivory veneer that started at the back of the broom and blended into the black gave the two-tone paint job visions of a yin-yang symbol. The matte finish on both the black and white shimmered underneath the ornate chandeliers suspended above the dinner banquet. The bristles at the tail of the broom were pin-straight. Alistair ran his hand into them. The soft brushes tickled his skin, the thick bristles being more like owl feathers than the typical British brooms. It was not the longest broom, but it was exactly what he wanted.

Alistair lifted it out of the box and rolled it in his hands. The broom was light like carrying a newborn baby. However, the wood itself was sturdy, not the hollow spindles like the other popular model brooms.

"You didn't tell me you got a new broom!" Beatrice chirped as she scoured over the broom.

Julian pointed a knife at Alistair from across the Slytherin table. "You didn't order from my fathers's shop?"

"I already talked to him," Alistair said while pining over the broom in his arms. "He said they couldn't order this since it's so new."

"Bloody tell us what it is!" Beatrice said, hopping up on her tip-toes. She reached for the broom, and Alistair kept it at arm's length.

"The Eros Seventeen," Alistair said with a look of wonder covering his face. He stroked the broom while lecturing about it. "Made from the Yoshino cherry trees of Japan. Tailor made for grip and color. Hazel twigs on the tail, and naught to one hundred in seven seconds. It's not the fastest, but it get's going in the blink of an eye, and the turns this thing makes is sharper than a unicorn's horn. It's the Seventeen because this is the seventeenth one they have ever made."

"You traitor," Julian spat out. "You didn't get a British Model?"

"Jules, look at this thing," Beatrice said. She gestured at it as if it was a lost treasure found by pirates. "It's a custom made Japanese broom! You know they don't make a lot. I mean, Nimbus is great and all, but they are getting sort of old-fashioned. And Firebolt Supremes are so overused. Everyone has them. They're getting boring."

"British brooms are boring?" Julian said, clutching his chest in pain. "Alright, then what's the top speed?"

Alistair bit his lip. "One hundred and thirty."

"That's twenty less than the Firebolt!" Julian cried. "Not even the Supreme, just the original Firebolt! What about the metal? What's the material?"

Alistair cringed. Despite not being able to ride a broom to save his life, Julian gleamed plenty from his dad's Quidditch shop. "It's...uh...muggle carbon fibre."

Julian choked on the air. He hit his chest, acting as if he were suffocating on the banana bread pudding heaped into a pile on the mahogany table. He stood up in his seat, not making much of an impact since he was so short in actuality. "You mean to tell me it uses muggle metal? And this is supposed to be better?"

"In fact," Alistair said while holding up the broom and stroking the wood like a fuzzy Kneazle, "The Eros 17 is going to win us the Quidditch Cup this year," Alistair said.

"Figures you'd be flying on a fairy stick, Leonhardt."

Alistair grinned as he turned to the source of the voice. Robbie had his arms crossed, standing a few feet from where Beatrice's seat was. Wearing his white dress shirt with form-fitting jeans, his platinum watch shone in the bright illuminated lanterns of the Great Hall. A posse of generic Gryffindors behind hum, the scruffy-faced man had a sly smirk, crossing his arms as he tilted his head down at the shorter Slytherin.

Both the Slytherin table and the adjacent Hufflepuff table turned to look at the encroaching scene. Callie, in the Hufflepuff section directly in between the two narcissist, bit her fingernails as he shifted her eyes at both sides.

Edward stood up in front of his bench, cocking his head up to see what Robbie was trying to do to Alistair.

"Oh, hey Robbie," Alistair said as the taller man bucked up to him. "Was wondering when you'd leave your coffin."

"Glad to see you've given up on Quidditch," Robbie said while brushing off the last comment. "I mean, a Japanese broom? You might as well ride around on Hagrid. It'll be as fast."

"He's kinda right," Julian whispered to Beatrice. The comment earned him a quick slap on his head.

"Then it'll suck even worse for you when you fucking lose," Alistair stood up as straight as he could. Robbie was just a few inches from his face at this point.

Robbie let out a mirthless laugh. "Even with Firebolts for the entire team, we still beat you. We've beaten you the past thirteen years, and we'll beat you now."

Callie, who was pivoted towards the aisle, cleared her throat. "Excuse me, but you're all blocking my way out of the Hal-."

"How's your dad by the way, Robbie?" Alistair said with a lighthearted shrug. "Packing up and getting ready to move back to the cave you came from?"

"In fact," Robbie said. He clutched the collar of Alistair's shirt and tugged him towards him. Their noses almost touching, Robbie nearly lifted up Alistair off his toes. "He's still Minister of Magic. And he'll stay that way for another four years. How's your sister?"

Alistair's smile twitched, evaporating from his face. His eyebrows furrowed. Alistair's sister, Audrey, was a Ravenclaw in her Seventh Year. He had barely seen her all day. "She still none of your business, Robert."

Robbie laughed. "'Robert,' huh? Is that you being serious?"

Beatrice gripped onto her wand, sensing that things were getting serious. Julian frowned, also thrusting his hand into his pocket.

"I just really want to go," Callie said in her soft voice.

Alistair lifted up his head, glaring at Robbie. "It's my face that says I can be a real pain in your arse if you mention my sister again," Alistair's grin grew back as he put his hands onto Robbie's that were still pulling at his shirt collar. "Or would you like to hear about me and your sister after last year's Christmas Ball?"

Robbie's eye twitched. "Thin ice, Leonhardt." What few realized was that, not only was Robbie's father the Minister of Magic (frankly, one of the first things people should know about Robbie) but he had a Fifth Year sister in Ravenclaw as well.

"I thought you and her were pulling a prank, but once Lacie dragged me into the girl's bathroom, I couldn't say no after th-."

Alistair should have expected the punch coming, but his reflexes were much stronger on the Pitch than in other areas of life. Robbie reared one fist back and, while still holding Alistair, reamed a right hook right into his cheek. Letting him go, Alistair slammed onto the floor, grasping his cheek. The sting emanated from the impact throughout his thick skull. Rubbing the tender flesh, he skittered to a halt, leaning the back of his head on the bench.

Robbie towered over him, his wand out and pointed at him. " _Redu-."_

Edmund shot up to his feet and had his wand at the ready to disarm Robbie.

"No, Ed," Aisen said as he reached for Edmund's wand.

Before either of them could act, Edmund's eyes widened as he was a familiar golden spell rocket towards Robbie's wand. It crashed into his hand, causing a yelp of pain as his wand fluttered in the air towards the corner of the room. As Robbie turned in disgust to face his adversary, a whole pumpkin pie smashed into Robbie's face.

The hall died into a suffocating silence. Robbie smeared away the bits of cold, seared pumpkin and glared over at who attacked him. Callie, panting and still seated at the Hufflepuff table, examined in horror at the sight of a messy Robbie seething in front of a crumpled Alistair.

"I have to use the bathroom! You're in my way!" She shouted. She got up and ran towards the exit. As she escaped, Callie almost bumped into Calista, whose wand sputtered at the edge with the aftereffects of her Disarming Spell. Her apathetic expression wore into an annoyed glance as she examined the scene in front of her. Her Ravenclaw robes blowing from the reverb of the last spell, she took a few steps forward towards Robbie and Alistair.

"Can we go one day without a pissing match between Gryffindor and Slytherin?" She said. Brushing past Robbie, she sighed as she looked down at the injured boy on the floor. Calista kneeled down in front of Alistair.

"I need to talk to you."

Alistair, still massaging his bruised cheek, flashed a toothy grin. "Already putting your life on the line for me?"

"It's not that. I have a deal for you. But we need to go."

Lifting up Alistair, the Slytherin boy's eyes flashed when their hands made contact again. It was as if her touch was an immediate healing incantation. Warm and soothing to the touch, his smile widened as she pulled him forward past Robbie. They walked by the quiet students, passing them like a Professor strutting by the silent marble soldiers in the hallways.

When they exited, the rest of the students mulled around, talking about the situation.

Robbie, still fuming from the incident, snapped his fingers and pointed at one of his lackeys. "One of you, get my wand. We're outta here."

Julian turned to Beatrice. "Should we kill him now?"

Beatrice shrugged. "I feel like it's taken care of for now. Alistair can handle himself. Besides, do you even know the killing curse?"

Julian nodded. "It's _Lumos_ , right?"

Edmund breathed out. His feelings still befuddling him, he sat back down and slumped over his book. He was ready to stick his neck out for someone that did not even know he existed. He was losing his sanity fast.

"That was intense."

Aisen hummed to himself and waved his legs over the bench. "I agree. First fight of the year on the first day. Kinda makes you wonder where the Professors are."

* * *

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Keep up the reviews! I love them and they inspire me to get chapters out faster!**

 **So what do you think about what happened? What about those two new characters? Interested in them? What did you make of the events in the last half? Exciting? Boring? Let me know!**

 **Also, i have been thinking about the whole points game thing. I am still unsure what I will do, but I am still keeping in mind who is reviewing and following an dreading this story! Your patronage will not go in vain?**

 **Is there anything you would all like to see? Events? Characters? Situations? Let me know what you hope to see from all of this?**

 **Thank you. See you soon!**


	8. Eavesdrop

The pillow slammed into the oak wardrobe in front of Warren's bed.

The young man hunched over his sprawled out legs, hidden underneath indigo satin sheets. His shoulders bobbed with every gasp he lassoed into his parched throat. His charcoal eyes widened, staring down at his hands that were clutching the fabric enveloping him in the bed. His heart plummeted in his chest. Warren flickered is gaze around the dormitory room. The other beds were vacant. Pale moonlight beamed through the window, jutting a smoky white light onto the side of Warren's face. The sound of chatter from the Ravenclaw common room was muffled by the heavy stone door enclosing him from the rest of the world.

Seeing nobody in the boys' dormitory room since curfew was still an hour away, he calmed down and felt a hardcover book next to his knee. Looking down, he felt the cool, ripped spine of the worn book. It was an old copy of _Advanced Potion Making_. He thumbed open the cover. Libatius Borage's name graced the center of the title page. The moonlight illuminated the worn, tan pages as Warren sighed. He ran his hands through his mussed-up hair, slightly oiled from not bathing yet. He grabbed the book from the bedsheets and smacked the cover closed.

Slumping out of bed, Warren was still in his school uniform. He slipped on his black pennyloafers before looking out the window. The exterior of Hogwarts was as placid as the rolling hills surrounding the castle. Warren's window overlooked the mountains to the North; dark summits of giant trees dotted the landscape with stars twinkling on the clear night. Grass blades in the meadow leading out to the edge of the campus swayed in the crisp early autumn breeze. A dull whistle waltzed past the window, fogging up the glass. Warren put his hand on the glass absorbing the cold surface with his warm hands.

He had another nightmare. The same one of him being attacked every night. The one that gave him those scars that he trailed his fingers down every day. The one that made him keep a chart of the moon's phases stuffed in his pants pocket every single time he went out.

But this time, he felt as he cradled the book in one hand, he felt something different. Something was missing from him.

Warren gazed down at the book. He looked at his hands, and he saw his bare knuckles. Whatever it was, it was missing and it needed to be found. With a shake of his head, he strode towards the doorway. No use staying out here. Some of the younger Ravenclaw boys would be in any second. he would prefer to not have them shout in fear from seeing him. Last year was still fresh on his mind.

* * *

Callie bit her fingernails as she exited the washroom. Sullen, she paced down the hallway with a downtrodden beat. Her hair frazzled, she placed her palm on her pale face. She was cold as usual. She kept her eyes glued to the plain stone floor. Her dress shoes clacked with a sickening beat that followed her. Crossing her arms, Callie sighed while passing a group of laughing students.

Social interactions were never a strong suit for Callie. However, she could not recall the last time she threw a whole pumpkin pie at someone's face. After the incident in the Great Hall, she ran off to the bathroom. She had splashed water on her face like a geyser exploding hot steam in a hot springs. After pacing around the room like a drunk fly, she soothed her heart and nerves enough to brave the wide walkways again.

Callie sniffled, trying to keep it together. So much so, she rounded the corner to sharply and smacked into a boy. A boy that was slightly smaller than her, much younger, and skid to the ground while clutching the snake crest on his robes.

"Watch it!" Julian blasted.

Callie covered her mouth and tensed up. "Oh, Merlin. I'm so sorry."

Julian shot back up to his small feet, smoothing out his ebony dress pants. His small fists out in front of him, he squinted at the cowering girl. "Wait. You're that girl from the train."

Callie held out her hands in front of her. She began to shake with anxiety. "Please! I've had a long day."

Julian pursued his lips together. He snorted out a breath before lowering his fists. "I'm not gonna do anything."

Callie hugged herself. "Really?"

Julian rolled his eyes. "Bigger fish to fry, as my grandmother said. Anyone whose an enemy of that Jerk Gryffindor is a friend of mine."

The Hufflepuff girl shook her head like a tornado ripping through a meadow. "But I'm not an enemy of anyone! I'm just Callie."

"Well, Just Callie," Julian said. He leaned on the wall corner. "I've been meaning to do something like that to Robbie since I first came here. But I'm not stupid. Yes, my wand skills would obliterate him, but I know when I'm a match physically. I would have still done it, but those morons I'm around stop me every time."

"I didn't mean to," Callie said in a soft, tired voice. "I just had to use the bathroom. Now, he's going to kill me."

"You're sacrifice was for a good cause," Julian said. He straightened himself up and looked down the hallway. He heard a muffled noise from down the hall. A familiar voice letting out a quick yelp.

"Hold still," a voice growled. "I'm going to take your eye out."

Julian put his finger on his lips. Hunched down, he eased himself forward to the random open door just around the hall corner. Callie, unsure if she was supposed to eavesdrop, decided to follow suit anyway. She leaned forward over Julian's smaller stature.

It was a small broom cupboard. The door closed, Julian and Callie placed their ears on the crack of the door to listen in. On the other side of the door, the cupboard was tiny and warm. A small lantern flickered on a dust-encrusted metal workbench. Oak cabinets, worn and loose on its hinges, gleamed with hints of turtle wax smeared on them. The room was empty; cabinets bare of any cleaning supplies. Only the lantern light and the sparkling wand illuminated the room. The Slytherin boy sat on the workbench, clutching the sides of it as the girl sashayed her wand standing up in front of him.

The sixth year grunted again as Calista bit her lip, concentrating on the sore spot by his eye. The swelling redness that throbbed by his pupil subsided back into the plain cream skin Alistair normally wore. As the silver spurts crawled over the spot, the wand drew a circle directly above the impact spot of Robbie's fist. The bruising gone, Alistair blinked as Calista drew back her wand. He rubbed the spot with his fingertips, inspecting the spot he was punched. Smooth like finished marble, his face no longer bore the pain.

Alistair smiled at the Ravenclaw. "Thanks, Calista. That would've killed me. Walking around with a black eye."

Calista put her wand back in her robes. She crossed her arms and pushed back the braid on her hair. "I doubt Pomfrey would have woken up for you. Especially since you've been in the wing every year."

"First year wasn't my fault," Alistair whined. "When they said 'Whomping Willow,' I didn't think it did that literally."

Calista snorted. Alistair looked right into her eyes, a gentle smile flashing in the dim room. "So...you wanted to say something?"

Calista pursued her lips. "I don't want your help about the treasure."

Alistair's grin faded. "You don't?"

"Unless you know something I don't."

Alistair looked up at the ceiling as if he were pondering something. "Well, the Eros 17 broomstick was developed by a Japanese wizard. A professional muggle figure skater of some kin-."

"I meant about the treasure."

Alistair stopped and considered her words. After waking up earlier in the day, he had to be honest with himself. The treasure was an idea that had been floating at the top of his head like droplets of raining pattering the top of him. Sure, classes had been intriguing enough with their yearly professor introductions, but an all-powerful object hidden in the annals of Hogwarts? That was something he could sink his teeth into.

"I kinda wanted to find it," Alistair said. "I'm a big fan of the whole eternal glory and wisdom thing."

Alistair could have sworn he heard the high-pitched whine of a kid saying, "Attention hog," from outside the room. But he ignored it. Calista took a step closer to Alistair and uncrossed her arms. She studied Alistair's face for a second. The silence swirled around them like the wind blowing past the castle outside.

"I'm going to find it and destroy it," she said.

Alistair bucked back. "Or you could not be brash and give it me if you find it."

"Do you know what _The Maltese Falcon_ is?" Calista asked.

"A very lovely sounding drink." Alistair commented.

Calista sighed. "I figured you wouldn't," she said. She leaned back on the wall and took a breath. "It was a muggle movie from a long time ago. I grew up with them. Humphrey Bogart, he was an actor in it. It was a story about these people, and they're hunting for a statuette. The Maltese Falcon. There's a lot of death and a lot of crazy stuff that happens because of it. the point is, by the end of the film, nobody has the Falcon, and everyone is either dead or in jail. I don't know what this thing is or how to find it. But I know a little bit about these kinds of stories. They all end the same way. Hell, that's kinda what happened here the past few decades."

"How?" Alistair asked.

"Harry Potter bewitched that age line," Calista said.

Alistair laughed and clutched his other wrist. "You believe that?"

"It makes logical sense, doesn't it?" Calista lifted her hands up in exasperation. "He was always looking for fame and fortune. The line barred anyone who wasn't of age nor a student. That crazy guy, whatever his name was, was neither. So Potter went and entered that stupid tournament to get a prize."

"Did you bring me here to talk about your conspiracy theories?" Alistair said while tilting his head.

"The point," Calista said. "Is that I know how these stories end. And they end with a lot of people getting hurt."

"And you don't want me to get hurt," Alistair said, his smile growing on his face. He stood up. He leaned slightly towards Calista, the space between them shrinking ever-so-slightly. "You know, I forgot to thank you for helping me in Charms."

"I didn't want you to get water on me," Calista said. "So if I was behind the wand with you, it lessened the chances."

Alistair smirked, his green eyes lighting up with excitement. "Maybe I wouldn't mind if we did that more often. Why can't we team up for this treasure? Think about it," Alisatir said as he put a hand on Calista's. A small warmth stretching out across the touch. "Your brains. My charm. Our looks. We can rule the fucking universe, babe."

Calista scoffed. "How about this, Alistair." She said before giving him a nudge away from her. Alistair looked at her as if she had just insulted his entire existence.

"Stop getting into so many fights. And you really need to work on your charms in general. If Flitwick wasn't as nice, he wouldn't have put you in NEWTS with only an 'acceptable' grade. And if you are going to get into a fight, try to not do it in the Great Hall with everyone watching. If you lose, it'll just be more embarrassing."

As Calista headed for the door, Alistair sat back on the workbench. "Why did you help me out then?"

Calista turned around. Deep shadows cast onto her face from the vibrant lantern. "I guess I prefer you not dead."

"That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." Alistair said. He grinned at the girl, who gave him another cursory eyeroll.

Meanwhile, Julian dry heaved and turned away from the door. Callie kept her hands clasped together, thinking about the conversation. That mysterious object that was the talk of Hogwarts kept popping up. People had been trying to narrow it down, but so far there had been no good leads. Callie shivered just thinking about what it could entail. Being as advanced in ancient runes as an average Sixth Year, she knew the power that could be held in such an object. Whatever it was, she wanted to be far away from it. Alistair and the evil boy next to her could have the prize for all she cared.

"I knew they'd begin to flirt with each other," Julian said. He pivoted in his dress shoes and walked away. Callie stumbled next to him.

"Hey, I wanted to thank you all," Callie said as she caught up to Julian.

"For what?" Julian barked.

Callie breathed through her teeth. "I just wanted to say thanks. For not trying to kill me."

Julian scoffed. "You know, for a fourth year, you have absolutely no spine."

The pair strolled past the entrance to men's bathroom. Callie noticed the shape from the corner of her eye. Reaching out her hand, she stopped the boy from plowing into her. Warren looked down at her, clearing his throat as he noticed the girl.

"Oh, hey. It's you."

"Really smart," Julian said. "Who is this weirdo?"

"It's not nice to call people weird," Callie spoke softly. She turned back to Warren who was uncomfortably close to her. "I didn't see you there."

"I was trying to sleep, but I couldn't," Warren said. He slicked back a strand of his unruly hair, trying to fix it in Callie's presence. "Can I talk to you for a second? Alone," he said while looking over at Julian.

Julian's eyes widened. The scary-looking man was glaring at him, carving his eyes into his skull as a swordsman etches a blade. He tried to collect his cool and huffed to himself. "Fine. I needed to go anyway," the boy squeaked out. He ran down the hallway to the presumed safety of the Dungeons.

Warren looked back at Callie. He gestured towards the bathroom.

Callie pointed at herself. "You want me to go in there with you?"

"There's someone you need to meet."

Callie gulped, hoping this decision was not the last time she breathed in the lavender-scented air of the restrooms. Behind her best judgement, she followed Warren into the large space. The bathroom, identical to the girl's one, was bathed in moonlight from the large bay windows. However, at the sink stood two boys. One of them appeared quite nervous, fidgeting around in front of the sink basin. The other one had a lopsided smile to his face, his robes framing his body in a very slimy and untrustworthy way. A Gryffindor and another Ravenclaw outside of Warren.

"Please don't mug me," Callie said. "I've had a long day."

The boy on the right chuckled. "Believe me, if I wanted to rob you, it's already happened."

The nervous boy smacked the American on the back of his head. "Cease that! It's making her nervous."

"Who says 'cease' anymore?"

Warren cleared his throat. The sound echoed over the bathroom tile and marble. The boys looked back at the imposing student.

"Hello miss," the pretty looking boy said. "My name is Edmund. And this is Alexander," he said while gesturing to the thinner man next to him.

"You can call me Lex," he said. "And we need your help."

Callie shifted her gaze over to Warren. He stepped forward towards the sinks as Edmund approached her.

"Me and Lex were in here," he said. "And I was discussing with him some things. Warren here overheard us, and we believe something is happening at this school."

Callie tilted her head. "And what would that be?"

"Well, we assume it's about this weird-ass thing in the school," Lex said. He threw his arm around Edmund and brought him closer to him. "The past day or so, this sack of haggis has been complaining about somethi-."

"I'm British," Edmund interrupted. "Haggis isn't Bri-."

"Anyway," Lex giggled. "Tell her."

Edmund swallowed and drew in a deep breath. The dripping faucet behind him stained the ivory sink with silver glistens of water. Only the vibration of the pipes through the castle walls rumbled noise as Edmund thought back to his memories. He adjusted his tie and stood up like the knight statues dotted around the school premises.

"I was telling Lex about this weird dream I had," Edmund started. "And I wasn't sure what to make of it. At first, it was a memory. Then, things started to change. It felt like something was going to happen. Or it had happened. Regardless, I've had a strange feeling that burrows up inside me throughout the day. Like something has been taken from me. Something in my life is missing," he said. He looked over to Warren, who remained silent. "And when I described this to Lex, Warren popped up and said he had a similar feeling."

"And I thought it was no big deal," Lex interjected. "Two people have similar dreams and have similar feelings. But then something strange happened."

"I touched him," Warren said.

Callie bounced up on her tiptoes. "Oh, well. I don't need to know about th-."

"Not like that, pervert," Edmund said. "But he did brush by me as he was leaving the bathroom. Quite rude of you, actually, to eavesdrop on us like that," Edmund said towards Warren. "But anyway, as he brushed past me, a strange feeling of warmth passed through me. As if I had found what I needed. But it isn't Warren. It's an object. And being around him felt like a way to lead me to that object."

"That, or you have a massive hard-on for Warren," Lex said.

Edmund gasped. "Stop being so vulgar!"

"It's no big," Lex said as he gestured to Warren, whose face had grown a small shade of red. "I mean, you'd be totally hot if it wasn't for the whole thing that happened here," Lex said while gesturing to Warren's scars. "By the way, What happened there exa-."

I don't care," Warren shouted.

Silence. Callie shoved her hand into her robe. Her wand an odd feeling around her fingers, she prepared herself for any situation. A deep mixture of fear stewed in the pit of her stomach like the gnarliest Wolfsbane potion. Edmund cried out and took a step back from the aggravated Ravenclaw. Even Lex dropped his smirk and blinked in surprise.

Warren sighed. "Look, I don't want to be bothered by this. I just want to go back to sleep and read."

"I agree," Edmund said. "I have no desire to be involved in this idiotic adventure. This treasure hunt. I would rather just get OWLS over with so I can go home and study for NEWTS next year."

"But we can't ignore this," Warren said. He turned his body towards Callie. "This feeling. It will only get stronger. And we need your help. With your skills in Magical Runes, you can help us."

"But there's other people out there," Callie said. She began to tremble over the prospect of being roped into this situation. "Get a Seventh Year in Runes. Get the Professor!"

"You don't understand," Warren said. He drew closer to Callie, crossing over the white tile floor. His breath tickled her nose as he grabbed her hand. "I feel it with you, too."

As he grabbed her, warmth grew on Callie's hand. It drew further through her body. A strange magic coursed up her limbs like a salmon slithering up the cool streams outside Hogwarts. It was a feeling that both soothed and unease her from her normal surroundings. At the same time, memories began to flicker in front of her. Or were they memories? They could be visions of the future, but they seemed to be more emotion than event. These feelings collided with each other, creating the numbness of a continuous current of electricity driving through her body.

Callie did notice one thing as Warren let go of her. As the warmth departed her body, replaced by the cool and murky air of the bathroom, she saw more people surrounding her. People who were not there at the present time. They were, however, people she had seen earlier in the day. Students at this school. She gasped for air as if she had swum a great distance in the Lake, stealing precious oxygen from the lavender air. Dancing her gaze around the room, the three boys stared at her with varying degrees of concern.

"Who were they?" She said.

"Others," Warren said.

"Whatever is happening to us," Edmund said. "Those others you saw are involved. Whatever puzzle this is, we think finding them has something to do with it. We've been chosen for something."

"Well, you all have been," Lex said while throwing his hands up in the air. "But not me. Because I don't feel anything. So whoever is in your visions or whatever it is, you need to find them and figure out what's going on here."

"You know, you're more than happy to take my place," Edmund said to Lex.

Callie nodded at Warren. "So we need to find the others first? Are we supposed to touch everyone in Hogwarts?"

"Finally, a job that Slytherin whore Alistair might be good at," Lex said with a smirk. He then sashayed to the middle of the room, twirling around like a ballerina. "Or...you could just find out who is having these same dreams and feelings. That would narrow it down.

Callie pulled back her shoulders. She had no idea where to go now. A few minutes ago, she was listening on mindless drivel. Now, she was emblazoned into the strangest of situations. She had no idea if she could even call it a situation. Not to mention, going around and asking people about their feelings was a massive problem for her. However, she knew these feelings and thoughts were real. If there was a connection with other Hogwarts students, she could not turn around and say no.

"So how do we do this?" Callie asked Warren.

Warren shrugged.

Edmund coughed to himself.

Callie grimaced as she looked over at the last person in the room. Lex traced a finger down his face, licking his lips as he chuckled.

"I've been told eavesdropping is my strong suit."

* * *

 **Thank you for your patience everybody!**

 **So what is going on now? What do you think is going to happen? What do you want to happen? What did you think of the characters? I know we are still introducing many, so tell me what you think of these various scenes!**

 **And keep sending in OCs! We are still open for business!**

 **But please keep reviewing! You are all doing a phenomenal job, so please pick apart the story as much as you want! Good or bad, doesn't matter. Just review! If you have any comments, suggestions, or questions, let me know!**

 **Thank you so much! See you soon!**


	9. Contemplation

Erin tapped on the sterling silver stud sliced into her ear. Traversing up the spiral staircase, she sashayed with a smooth pep. Her shoes pounding the stone steps, she hummed to herself as other students climbed with her or descended like scurrying rats chasing a block of gouda. The midday sun hung over the castle; the crystalline blue sky blanketed the castle like a soothing blanket. The spiral staircase showed the entire campus as Erin climbed further up the tower.

If there was one thing Erin loved, it was keeping up with the gossip of the school. However, a close second was mail time. The letters jostled in her hands as she approached the summit of the tower. Her letters were an immaculate detailing of all the tidbits and rumors that plagued the school. To her mother's side, she wrote about the specific events of Hogwarts and how her classes were going. With her father's side, things were different. She had to write about the same things, but mask them to be less magical. It was annoying for her to write so many different letters, but at least they were personalized for every person. Although she had to admit the excuse of poor cell service was waning on her older brother in muggle college. Eventually, she would need a cell phone.

The Owlery was a circular stone room, the late summer breeze flowing through like Mother Nature was personally tickling Erin's sunken cheeks. The lack of glass in the windows allowed owls to come and go as they pleased. Mounds of bleach straw draped the floor, covering it from anybody's sight. Rows of owls nestled here on perches that rose right up to the top of the tower. A few students mulled around in the Owlery. Even if they were not sending mail, the breeze and overreaching views of Hogwarts and the surrounding hills made for an impressive lookout point. Sharp chirps and low coos buzzed around the thin walls. The odor of straw and feathers was dulled by the wind, but usually was quite strong.

Erin found a dark grey owl, a small tawny one on the third row of stands. She petted the creature and scratched the bottom of its chin. The owl stuck out its talon, and Erin stuffed the roll of letters onto the creature. The owl whipped around and fluttered off the tower towards the great blue above them.

"More fun, Erin?"

"I was gonna ask you the same thing."

"Well, since you asked," Lex said. He whipped out a small piece of parchment. Waving it like a fan, he thrusted it towards Erin. She snatched it from his hand and scanned the parchment. It was blank as usual. She pulled out her wand and muttered a quick incantation. Waving it over the paper, words began to trickle into existence. Erin examined the story, taking in the different twists and turns. It was a strange little story for her. Something was missing from these strange individual's lives, and the source of their longing appeared to be pointed at a certain mysterious magical artifact.

After a few seconds, she glanced back up at Lex. "They feel the same emotions? About this thing?"

Lex gave her a sloppy smile. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Erin tilted her head like a confused puppy. "So Warren from my House and that Gryffindor are connected somehow? Emotionally? Spiritually? Along with the Hufflepuff?"

"Edmund was so annoying about it, too," Lex said. "He almost cried. 'Oh My God, I'm being possessed by something on my first day," he mimicked in a whining voice. "It was funny."

"Well," Erin said as she pocketed the parchment. "Calista will like to hear this."

"Knowing her, she probably knows about it already," Lex said with an eyeroll. "You'd just confirm it. I'll let you know if anything changes."

Erin reaches into her opposite robe pocket and flashes a handful of galleons in her palm. She hands it over to Lex, who snatches it like a hungry dog spying beef. He examined the galleons, thumbing the etchings on the golden disks. He rolled them through his limber fingers, chuckling as the cool gold gleamed in the sunlight. He winked at Erin and walked over to the edge of the silver, rusted railing by the open space. An owl swooshed out just as Lex craned his fist outside the Owlery.

"I don't need galleons, Erin," Lex said with his smirk. "The fun of this is enough."

Erin frowned. "Then why did you ask for the money?"

Lex giggled. "A wise man once said, 'If you're good at something...'" He trailed off as he let the galleons go.

The flicker of the coins flashed as they whooshed to the ground. Like tiny shooting stars, the coins trickled down the side of the tower. To the naked eye, nobody could notice the small pieces flowing downward like a banana waterfall. It was a small, unimportant moment in the everyday life of the Hogwarts student. The school was the epitome of the idea that every wall had a story to tell, and every crack in the cobblestone foundations of the courtyard could sing with the purposes of every student that trampled through its space. A small hum of smoke billowing from the Floo network fireplaces and centaurs clomping through the meadows beyond the forbidden forest soothed the castle, creating a vibrant rhythm that churned the generators of classes and unearned detentions.

Underneath the Owlery, the coins clanked off a silver plaque. The ding reverberated into the honeysuckle-scented air as a bunch of roses and stalks of lilies rested around the plaque. They hugged the plaque like a mother clutching a child as the freshly-cut grass blades tickled the perimeter. The coins bounced and fell flat on their faces by the name on the plaque. In the reflection of the sterling silver plaque, the blonde haired boy with eyes matching the grass bucked back in surprise at the coins.

"Bloody hell was that?" Alistair said.

Alistair stared at the galleons. Looking up, he stared at the top of the Owlery wondering who would be careless enough to throw things off the top of buildings like that. It was a curious decision throwing galleons like they were pieces of notes taken from Transfiguration class.

Just then, a smaller boy dived towards the plaque. Springing towards the galleons, he slid by the plaque and snagged the coins.

"Free money. Hell yeah!" Aisen said. He fisted the money and smiled as if he had won a very important trophy. He rose up to his feet. Dull grass stains etched into the knees of his robes as he brushed off the pedals of lilies from his Gryffindor robes. He turned around and jumped when he saw Alistair.

"Oh, I'm sorry, mate. Were you looking down at this...thing?"

Alistair licked his lips. "No, I was just...well I guess I was."

Aisen looked down at the plaque. It had a small list of names that he did not recognize. He stroked his chin while pondering the plaque. He had not even noticed it before, but it had been there for a while based on the small worn fringes on the edges of the silver memorial.

"It's a pretty small plaque," Aisen said.

Alistair sat down in front of the plaque. Ignoring the dirt or grass he would get on his robes, he crossed his legs and looked down at the forgotten names. In the center of the plaque, white marble was etched on the surface. The words in the white marble signified the event. Aisen's eyes widened and he crouched forward to examine it further.

"Battle of Hogwarts?" Aisen said. "I thought that statue at the dock was the memorial."

Alistair took a long breath. Small ravens chirped overhead as a few cocoa-colored leaves brushed past the grass around him. "Do you know how many Slytherins died in the Battle?"

Aisen stared at the blonde stranger. He had heard stories about the valiance and bravery of many students and professors during the battle almost a decade previous. The pictures and major statue were the first things that new students saw when they sailed across the Lake to Hogwarts for the first time. Aisen had completely forgot to tell his sister about the whole thing. So, the Gryffindors the night before had filled her in with tales of bravery. Tales, because some embellishments were going to occur. One Gryffindor had even said that some wizard names Neville Longbottom strangled Lord Voldemort's snake with his bare hands. He had a feeling that was untrue.

"Weren't they holed up in their common rooms the whole time?"

Alistair swallowed a small lump in his throat. He stared down at the plaque with a contemplative gleam in his eyes. "Fourteen Slytherins. They died that night. Ten of them ignored the orders and decided to fight with Hogwarts. Four of them were blown up from one of the explosions by the dungeons. But do you know what pisses me off? This is the only place you find their names," Alistair said as he gestured at the tiny surface.

"Just here?" Aisen asked.

"A plaque that no one knows about," Alistair said. "I'm not good at math, but out of all the Slytherins, maybe ten percent were anything like what those Death Soldiers or whatever they were called were. And they still keep us on a short leash. Hell, Hogsmeade was out of the question until my first year. I'm pretty sure they listen in on us like hawks in the common rooms, too. In case we decide to do anything like that again. We haven't won the House or Quidditch Cups since then. It feels like people just look at us and think we're these prim and proper wankers. It just...isn't bloody right."

Aisen considered his words. He personally never thought of the Hogwarts houses that way. Sure, he was told about the rivalries and he knew being placed in houses meant something about your personality or future. However, he knew plenty of good people in other houses and bad people in his own. If it was a case of good people in one house and bad people in another, he could point out a few Gryffindors that should not be lounging in the common rooms drinking butterbeer.

"Anyone you knew?" Aisen said, trying to leave out awkward dead air.

Alistair shook his head. "You?"

"No, but both my parents are dead. So I feel like I can relate," Aisen said. However, he took a step to Alistair's side and smiled. "Non-magic related. I don't think about those things, though. It's the past, and all you can do with the past is let it fly by you."

Alistair chuckled. "Well, I've always been a 'make love, not war' guy anyway. So they don't have to worry about me," he said. He grunted as he lifted himself to his feet.

"I've heard. I've already had to cover my sister's ears from some of the things said. Especially that girl, Ellore." Aisen said. "She said she was helping you with some Ravenclaw, but you never returned her copy of some muggle yoga book. Kama-sootrow? Sootray? It sounded very Dragon-Ball Z-ish."

Alistair adjusted the color on his shirt. Running a hand through his hair, he smiled as he headed back towards the castle. He had to admit that he felt better after venting slightly at this random Gryffindor. He was more glad that he had not been at Hogwarts in the years right after the Battle. He heard the crackdown on the House were more totalitarian. If he was around, he was not sure how he could have handled the situation. Regardless, his memory shifted back to the treasure hanging in the balance. Hogwarts was due for a new hero, and he had a feeling that he would be a perfect fit. Even if Calista did not want his help, he imagined a scenario where he could figure out the path to the treasure and get the girl at the same time.

As Aisen followed him from the side, Alistair sighed in relief. "The drawbacks of having such a wide age range. Do I know you, by the way?" Alistair asked.

Aisen looked up at the taller man with a bright look on his face. "You're that Slytherin guy that got into that fight with Robbie."

"Yeah, sorry."

"No, it was so cool," Aisen said as he tugged onto Alistair's robes. He took a step back at the boy's sudden hyper garble. "I'm in Gryffindor, right? But Robbie is annoying to a lot of people. He kinda looks down on everyone, so it's nice to get under his skin. You got punched and all, but at least you stood up to him. He was raving all night about how he was going to kill you. I think some of his little servants calmed him down after telling him he was the best person in history or something like that."

"Anythign specific.

"He might have told his dad to deport you from the country, but that's more of a muggle Prime Minister job," Aisen said. "But you were so cool!. You were like Vash The Stampede in Trigun when he took on those bandits by the cliff."

Alistair flashed a brittle smile. "I'll take that as a complim-."

"You should. Although that was a bad example. If you were an anime character, you'd be like a Tamaki Suoh, not an shounen hero. You're more like a muggle comic book hero guy than anime, though. Maybe you could Spider-Man!"

"I look like a spider to you?"

"No," Aisen grunted. "Spider-Man isn't an actual spider. Although I see you more like a Star Lord kind of character. He's a character in these comic books about this team of aliens from space and they go out and save the galaxy."

"Thanks, uh... I appreciate that. "

"Aisen Yuki."

Alistair pulled out his arm and showcased his palm in the form of a handshake. "Alistair."

Aisen shot out his hand for a very awkward and tense handshake. He was not an expert on being socially normal, so he just had to roll with the punches when those situations arose. He gripped Alistair's larger, albeit more delicate hand and grabbed it as a form of camaraderie.

That was when they both felt it.

Alistair thought of it as a really warm towel, still steaming from being drenched in a hot tub, being placed around his whole body. Flowing through his bloodstream, his heart throbbed with a strange excitement as the picture in front of him blurred into a golden canvas of blurred shapes and bass noises. He felt like he was transported to a nother plane of reality. The warmth, akin to a wool blanket, suffocated his throat.

It left him parched, but at the same time, he wanted to drown himself in the sensation. His bones vibrated softly as his heart massaged his chest.

Words were being spoken to him.

The voice was not male nor female. The definition of the words was as blurred as the shapes floating around his eyes like lily pads cascading down a gentle stream.

The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back. Alistair shielded his eyes from the blast of sunshine that hammered down on him laying in the clearing by the Owlery tower. He huffed like he had zoomed on a Firebolt around the Quidditch Pitch. His chest heaved upward and downward while his palms rested faceup. Shifting his head, he leered at Aisen who was in a similar position.

Aisen bolted up to a seated position. Still breathing like he had a lengthy Potions class with a toxic substance, he coughed out.

"What was that?"

Alistair put his head back down on the grass. Sensing no immediate danger, he narrowed his eyes. His mouth slightly ajar, he looked up at the cerulean sky. A calm sky breathed life over the placid campus, unassuming of any strange event that just occurred.

"I've never heard that before," Aisen said. He clutched his head and waved around like he was drowning in a lake. "What was that? Am I possessedI hope it's a good demon that's possessing me."

Alistair stayed silent. Allowing Aisen to freak out, he wondered what that feeling came from. He remembered a similar sensation when he touched Calista, but it was nothing as vivid or powerful as when he shook Aisen's hand. Was it even Aisen? What if he had been struck by lightening on this beautiful, clear and cloudless day? What if some curse or jinx was put on him by some detractor he had in the school?

Those words. Those memories. They were so vague and pointless. Yet, for some reason, the comforting sensation was replaced by nothing but a deep dearth in his chest. Alistair felt as if something was missing from himself. Something from his body, or something from his life, he was unsure. He had no idea what it was, but he had a feeling that there were some other people in the castle he needed to meet. He needed people to help him find what he was looking for.

Now, that selfish desire for fame and glory shifted into something more fulfilling. He felt like he had something in a past life, and now he had to get it back.

"Aisen?"

Aisen halted in his hysteria and looked down from a few feet away at Alistair. With his eyes closed, Alistair breathed in and out. Silence cocooned them from any pesky annoyances like classes or bullies. It was a new feeling of purpose of a different kind that made Alistair both uneasy and optimistic.

"Would you like to go on a treasure hunt with me?"

* * *

 **Bit of a smaller chapter this time around. I think we are lurching into the plot a little more.**

 **So we are still rotating characters and scenes! Tell me what you think! Are there any characters you'd like to have meet? What would you like to see happen? But first, what did you think of this stuff?**

 **What is going on? How did you feel about Lex and Erin teaming up on the gossip mill? What about Alistair's heart-to-heart with Aisen? What the hell am I planning? And did you agree with Aisen's strange references? Bonus points if you know what book he and Ellore were referring to.**

 **Of course, submissions for characters are still open. Please put the characters name in the title of the PM please. It does make it easier for me to sift back into what we need to know.**

 **And please REVIEW! You are doing do well at it, don't fall off the wagon! You give me the inspiration, drive, and direction to make something hopefully entertaining to all of you. I thank you for the motivation every day. Tell me whatever you think. Hell, if you have nothing to say about the story, just tell me how your day went. Just review something!**

 **Thank you so much. You are amazing readers, and you should keep that up!**

 **Thank you. See you soon!**


	10. Feeling It Out

Laila Vaernes was not having a good day.

She could not say that she had many good days in general. Everything about this castle seemed to nick at her nails. The permanent aroma of mangoes and pumpkin juice that pilfered out of the kitchens just by her Hufflepuff Common Room. Jostling feet hammered at the steps, echoing down the halls to her room. The Third and Fourth Years that took a lifetime to get out of bathrooms made her nearly forgo wrapping up her high dark-blonde ponytail and letting the tangled hair fall wherever it decided. Unfortunately, she knew she would not make any friends with dragon breath and her robes unbuttoned. At least, she would not make the right ones.

On top of that, the school was up in arms over a massive waste of time. The weirdest hunt for nothing. She knew there were plenty of glory-hungry people in Hogwarts regardless of House that planned on scrambling around for something. She hardly had time to unpack from her journey from across the sea without a gaggle of students coming up to her for help with her father's resources. Looking down at the front cover of her textbook, a small scrabble of words lined the edge of the frame. A message from her father wishing her well for the year. She covered it up with her hand, drumming a finger on the cover. Even in such a personal message, he still had to inscribe his official title of Norwegian Minister of Magic in the margins.

It was a new year for her at this dumb school. Okay, she thought to herself as she stared at the rose-colored walls of the incense-ridden room. It's not just Hogwarts. She would be miserable at any school she went to. Shifting in the uncomfortable oak chair, her black trousers were dotted with small white hairs from her white Tabby. She tapped her brown sneakers onto the squeaking floorboards. In her head, she drowned out the dull din of Professor Trelawney's dawdling about moon phases.

Laila snapped her gaze back to the front of the class. Trelawney plopped herself on a plush velvet chair by a crystal ball. Pairs of students shuffled around in the room like pixies skating in mid-air over a cool lake. Laila blinked her indigo eyes while scanning the room. That strange, scarred Ravenclaw scowled to himself seated at the corner of the room. His partner, a prim-and-proper blonde Gryffindor, pulled at his collar as he tried to talk to him.

The loud and annoying Gryffindor that shoved himself into the chair a row down from her she saw frequently. Robbie was one of those characters that a person took at face value and not in a good way. He was the embodiment of a brash person. Whenever his and her fathers met, they made it a point to have them around to smile for the cameras as if they were on a family and friend vacation together. The fewer summers she had to spend by Robbie and the British Minister of Magic's lakeside resort, the better. She could not stand another minute of him gloating about how he planned to be the youngest seeker in England's National Quidditch Team History.

"Oi, you're Laila?" A rough voice growled.

Laila veered her eyes towards the seat next to her. Yet another Gryffindor. This time, one of Robbie's friends. His silk white sleeves rolled up, his hair was darker and his frame taller than Robbie. He had referred to this boy as Cas, a fellow Sixth year, during one of those forced meet ups in the countryside.

He sat down without invitation, sighing as he flipped his hands palm-up on the satin table dressing between them. Laila leered at him as Cas raised his eyebrows.

"Go on. Read my palm."

"Oh," Laila said. "Is that what we're doing."

"You weren't paying attention?"

"Is there a reason why I should?"

Cas shrugged and pushed his palm towards her. She took a finger and stroked one of the lines on his palm. His hands were quite warm, like the metal railings outside in the midst of summer sun. It distracted Laila for a second, but she huffed and continued.

It's not that Laila disliked Divination specifically. Sure, Trelawney was dumb and the whole subject was treated as a joke by many. However, most classes were becoming that way at Hogwarts. Every class in her year was an opportunity for some shenanigans to occur. Laila would much rather be outside by the Forbidden Forest. She heard Hagrid had procured a new batch of magical creatures, and she was always willing to help out.

Feeling his palm, Laila made the stroke quick and sat back in her chair. "Oh no, you're going to die soon. The horror," she deadpanned.

"Is it anytime soon?" Cas asked with a flat face.

"How soon do you want it?" Laila asked.

"Before I get another headache," Cas said, gesturing his head towards Robbie down a row.

Laila could not help the small snort that croaked from her. "Alright. You're going to die tomorrow. It will be quick and painless."

Cas smirked. "Thank God. Or whatever the hell I believe in."

Laila looked around at the rest of the class. Sixth Year was going to be aggravating. Robbie was loudly espousing to a poor Hufflepuff girl about his visit to the Cursed Hills of some mythical place called Tennessee. Over in the corner, that Blonde Slytherin that got into the fight the previous night with Robbie was glaring over at the man like an angry puppy. A smaller fellow Slytherin had a smile as she shook her head at the man. It was a strange web of people in the room, and she had no clue where she fit in with them.

"Wanting to die, too?" Laila asked Cas.

"For a while now," Cas said. "Robbie blew my ear off about how he was going to get that Slytherin wanker from last night deported. Did you know the Minister of Magic could do that?"

"Not in Norway," Laila rolled her eyes. "Otherwise, I'd have been kicked out years ago. By my own dad."

Cas looked down at his palm still on the table. "Some people are pissed at him. We would've lost points if someone saw him. Then, that weirdo over there," Cas pointed over at Edmund in the corner with Warren. "He came in really late and almost got us in trouble. He looked like he saw a bowtruckle cutting of a snake's head. Head Boy caught wind of it and wondered why he was out till midnight. Then there was that other girl who sat up with her gossip circle until two in the morning. Ellora. I know her because she tried to smuggle in a whole barrel of firewhiskey on the last day last year. I couldn't get to sleep until one because of those wankers."

Laila groaned. "At least you aren't by the kitchens. Every night some students try to sneak down and snag something. And I'm like what the hell is wrong with you? Couldn't you eat enough at the Great Hall? It's a giant buffet for a reason."

Cas nodded as he stared over at Laila's palm. "So I have to read your palm now."

"Just say I'm going to die soon. Trelawney would believe it," Laila rolled her eyes again. "But I'm glad you have as much a distaste for reality as I do."

"Easy with all the the headaches I have to deal with. Not to mention, class."

Laila looked over at the Professor. Trelawney was just as frumpy as ever. Donning a velvet brioche robe, she sashayed around the classroom in search for people to terrify. Pushing her massive framed glasses up her elongated hooked nose, her curled hair bounced around as she interjected on random palm readings.

"You dear," Trelwaney squeaked to a pair at the front of the class. "How is her lifeline?"

Erin shrugged as she glanced at Calista across the table from her. They were so caught up in other conversations that they had failed to do any real work.

"Well, I read her palm," Calista said. Trelawney's eyes zoomed open in a dramatic stare.

"Go on, dear."

"Based on her lifelines, the moon is in the seventh house and Jupiter has aligned with mars. That means peace will guide the planets and love will steer the stars. Her palm marks the dawning of the Age of Aquarius."

Trelawney clutched her chest like an old Southern Belle. Digging her fingernails into her fabric, she coughed out a squeal. "What an accurate reading! You're lucky Miss Schermer. You have a very positive future for the time being. Remember to keep your mind open to the Eye," she leaned over and patted Erin on the shoulder. "It's not everyday it gets to see you."

Trelawney skittered off to the back of the room. Erin stared at her with the surprise of a Phoenix exploding into flames. "So what did that all mean?"

Calista sighed before flipping her textbook to another tan, worn page. "I just quoted a muggle song."

"I'm surprised she didn't notice you were a fifth year in a sixth year class," Erin said.

"I have an open period, and this is more important," Calista said.

Erin shook of the reading and flickered her gaze around to make sure no on was listening in. She leaned in and hunched over while lowering her volume towards Calista. "So a bird told me that there's some strange thing coming over some of the students. Warren? He has some weird feelings going on inside him."

"That's most teenagers," Calista shot back.

"But he said he has some weird memories. Things that he hasn't seen before but felt like happened to him. And some others are feeling that, too. Guy named Edmund in Gryffindor. That girl you spoke to first day back-."

"Callie?"

"They think it has something to do with this object. When they touch each other, there is a weird feeling that goes through them. Like electricity. And they grow a sudden urge to find this thing."

Calista examined Erin as she breathed out in the dust-enchanted air. This thing was already causing some trouble. However, the effect of connecting complete strangers was something that made her weary. True, she had an urge to find the treasure herself, but that was without needing a zap or memories to haunt her.

"Do you know anything about connected souls?"

Erin swallowed. "Like Unbreakable Vows?"

Calista shook her head. "I read about it late last night after talking to that Slytherin guy. While I was up studying in the Restricted section, I started to read about souls. It was strange, but there was one book that stuck out from the others. Literally. It fell from the bookshelf in the back. I picked it up, and it was about the magic of souls. How they are created. How they are connected. Being broken. Even repaired. It was late, So I forgot most things, but I saw a lot of things in there."

Erin gasped and sat back in her seat. "That's pretty dark stuff, though! Calista, you can't read about that. A book that just appears for you to read? How can you trust that?"

Calista huffed. "It's not like I'm gonna do anything with it. I don't even know what I'd make a Horcrux with. Would I use my diary?" Calista said before waving off the suggestion. "Nah, that's a dumb idea."

"Don't joke about that, Calista!" Erin hushed out.

"Either way," Calista said. "We need to get these people together. If they're being possessed by some strange object, I'm sure they'd be the best way to find it. And lift whatever curse this is. At least that's what I think might be happening here. Unless it was a Portkey. Then, the person could send a student somewhere and kill them."

Erin grimaced. "Kind of a weird theory."

"You know that guy was in on it," Calista pointed at her.

"Oh my god, I'm tired of hearing this."

"Cedric Diggory was a shady guy," Calista said loudly. "I mean, come on! What are the odds he and Potter would touch the thing at the same time. You know, he was really pale. And I heard he never went anywhere around garlic. He had to have been a vampire."

"That doesn't mean he was a vampire," Erin sighed and shifted in her seat. "But whatever. I'll keep my out for anything else," she said. Then, she narrowed her eyes and grinned. "So, you were 'talking' to Alistair Leonhardt last night?"

"Really, Erin?" Calista said.

"He's fancying you," Erin chirped. "Like, hardcore. I've heard from someone who said that he was talking about you to his friends all last night. And you patched him up after Robbie?"

Calista tilted her head and looked across the room towards Alistair. The blonde was currently busy talking to that Gryffindor girl with the black bob hair in a very animated, urgent fashion. "This is purely business. I have a feeling he might be in on this, too. Sure, he wants the treasure, but what if he's connected in this mess? I thought I could get something from him."

"Can't you just make friends with people to make friends?" Erin asked. "Why does there have to be, like, ulterior motives? Besides, you could do way, way worse than Alistair. He's blonde and "

Calista bit her lip. "Well, he's not ugly," she said while discreetly ogling him. Of course, there was no doubt he was attractive. He was considered one of the premier ladiesman of Hogwarts. On a personality level, he was at least charming without being pushy from what she could tell. That did not change the fact that he was as one-dimensional as a piece of paper. She could not have an intelligent conversation with him. Although, as she examined him, something seemed off. He appeared a little frazzled, creasing on his forehead showcased worry as he kept shifting his gaze away from Ellora in front of him.

Calista shrugged to herself. "I guess he's harmless. But dumb as a rock and helpless with a wand."

"If social skills were a class, you'd get a Troll, Calista," Erin said. "Now act busy, Trelawney is coming."

Trelawney surged past them in her rubber sandals. She made her way across the classroom, satisfied to see the students "engrossed" in their activities. Maybe this would be the class that a true Seer would finally emerge from her large inventory of past students.

Coming towards Warren, he reached for his shoulder. Warren looked blankly up at the teacher as she shivered with the contact. Warren was close to rolling his eyes, since this was a common occurrence with the pair.

"And you, dear," Trelawney said to Edmund seated across from Warren. "What have you read from his palms?"

Edmund gulped. Being called in class always made him nervous, but Digination always made him more weary than most classes.

"Well," Edmund began as he traced down Warren's warm palm. "His lifeline is very strong. I think his trustline is weak, though. So that means he will have problems trusting people."

"Yes, yes," Trelawney hurried. "But what about the threats in his life?"

Edmund looked down at his palm. "I don't see any," he said.

Warren took back his palm. He knew Edmund was trying to be nice. Trelawney liked to see Warren as a bit of a pariah in the class, so he knew she would be extra dramatic with him. Based on the way Trelawney snatched his hand and scanned it like it, the hysterics would start in a second.

Sure enough, Trelawney shrieked like she caught a bug in her potato soup. Her mouthed leeched open and shut like a fish clamoring for water. She stared up at Warren, eyes wider than dinner plates as she stammered.

"You are in grave danger!"

Warren sighed. "Just like every year."

In fact, her pronouncements of Warren's impending doom were so routine, no students paid mind when she guffawed like a dying horse.

"My dear, you have a bad omen coming your way. One that can ruin your life."

I know. The next class, Warren thought to himself. Trelawney patted him on the back and promised to help protect him if at all possible. She twirled back towards the class and scattered away.

"She's not the most polite Seer of doom." Edmund said.

"Most aren't."

Edmund leaned forward and covered his mouth from vein of students on the other side of the room. "So what's the plan?"

Warren blinked. "Haven't thought about it. Honestly, it hasn't effected me yet too bad."

"But it's a problem," Edmund said. "I don't want to spend the year being haunted by strange feelings. It's like some weird string is being held in front of my face. And every time I tried to grab it, something is yanking it away."

Warren took a deep breath, trying his best to calm down. He knew losing his patience in class would do no favors for him. People talked about him a lot, and if word got about these strange connections, he may never have peace again.

"Wait until we find the others. Or hope it goes away."

Edmund sent Warren a worried expression. He blew out a long breath and cocked his head forward. "So I guess we should get to know each other then. If we're connected like this."

Warren crossed his arms. He raised his eyebrow.

Edmund cleared his throat and jumped his gaze to Warren's eyes. "It's not like we've ever conversed. You and I. So I guess my name is Edmund. I...have a cat named Azathoth. I-I brush my teeth on a regular basis. And...that's pretty much all there is to know about me. Your turn."

"I think we should skip this for now," Warren said. He crossed his muscles arms behind his head and leaned back. Once Trelawney was done with her daily dose of morbidity, she went off to harass other students and paid no attention to them. He leaned back in his silver seat and stared at the maroon ceiling above.

He himself had many doubts and questions. These strange emotions and feelings, it had to be from the object, didn't it? But what to make of the connection flowing between him and the random others? He knew little about any of this type of magic. Maybe they should tell a teacher. Worst case scenario, they would be called crazy and ignored. Then again, at Hogwarts, the lack of teacher meddling may be a plus.

There was also a sneaking suspicion. What if...what if it's what was taken from him? An old magical artifact found in Albania. He wondered to himself as his ring finger gave off a minuscule tremor. The nakedness of the finger chilled him as a small draft flowed through his clasp hands.

Regardless, it was nothing he could fix now. Maybe this doze would be more peaceful than the last. He slumped down, drifting to sleep. He sighed and closed his charcoal eyes.

* * *

Green eyes flung open.

A small shout erupted from Alistair as he shot up to a seated position. He gasped, pumping air into his mouth like a marathon runner blowing past a finish line. His heart thumped in his chest as adrenaline shimmied through his veins. A wild chill clogged down his back as he clutched his chest.

A dream. A nightmare. A whisper of something horrendous that happened. It felt so vague and so vivid at the same time.

"Hell's wrong with you?"

Alistair ignored Julian's cry as he stared back down at his hands. They were trembling. He tried to calm himself down, but the events that unfolded before his eyes shook him.

Alistair then flashed his gaze towards the base of the tree he was under. He had woken up next to Beatrice and Julian. They both stared at him. Beatrice scanned Alistair with strained curiosity. Julian frowned as he leaned on the tree. They were out in one of the fields by Hagrid's hut. In the middle of the meadow, the tree shaded them from the setting sun falling over the castle. It was a placid day outside of the castle. Their usual meeting spot underneath this specific tree was no shadowed by both the tree branches and the leaves that were transforming into a dying brown and orange crisps.

Alistair licked his parched lips. He snagged his breath before regaining use of his tongue. How could he explain what he witnessed?

"I...I...uh..."

"You're crying," Beatrice said.

The Slytherin Laid his fingers by his cheeks. Normally taut and tanned, they felt cold to his touch as droplets of saline rolled down his face. He smeared the tears away and examined the residue on his fingers, as if he could not believe it. His face reddened, both from the slight swelling of the tears but also the embarrassment of crying out in public.

"Why-why am I...?"

"Alistair?"

"I feel...really bad," Alistair said as he sniffled.

"Why are you crying?" Julian asked.

"I...had a dream."

"Okay, Julian doesn't need to hear about your dreams, Alistair," Beatrice joked to lighten the mood.

"I'm mature," Julian said. "I can handle it."

"Something happened," Alistair croaked out. "Something really weird, like I had just lost something really important. Something I don't want to live without. It was like I had something taken from me, and the hurt of losing it. It was eating away at me. "

"What was it?"

"I wish I knew," Alistair spoke. "But I don't think this is random. There's something I need to do." Staring out at the meadows around him, the day was as peaceful as ever. Not a cloud nor insect polluted the bright sky above. The whistle of trees dancing in the light breeze filled the air as the grass sashayed beneath them. Alistair felt the blades scratching at his robes as he gripped the cool earth. Dirt would clump under his fingernails, but he did not care about that right now.

"Just chill out, Alistair," Beatrice said as she took a box of Bertie Botts from her wool book bag. Cracking it open, she threw one into her mouth. "Whatever it is, it isn't real. And if you wanna find that treasure, just get some people to help."

Alistair pondered the words to himself. It almost felt like he was another person before he woke up, and now he was unsure if what was going through him was due to the treasure awaiting in the halls of Hogwarts or something else. There was a connection that was wrapping itself around him and another student. However, he had a sneaking suspicion that Aisen was not the only one involved in this situation. There were others, and he needed to find out who. An invisible force was pushing him to meet them. However, an even stronger force took hold of his nerves like a vice grip. He needed to find this treasure. It was a sudden urge, almost as if his life depended on it.

Despite this, he had yet to tell anyone else about his contact with Aisen. The Gryffindor had promised to keep him updated, but Alistair had been in a daze the whole day. Even Ellora, who had been suggesting techniques on winning over Calista, had noticed how he appeared worried. It did not help that Professor Trelawney also predicted his impending doom, something he was a little more keen on believing. It was confusing Alistair to no end.

"You know what," Alistair said. He wiped away the tears from his eyes and gave off an unsure smile. "It's probably nothing to deal with right now."

Beatrice and Julian stared at him, as if they did not believe his words. Alistair himself did not believe them. He was truly concerned about things now. This year was supposed to be easy. Show up Robbie in Quidditch and find some females to satisfy his needs. Already, things had become overcomplicated.

"I bet hitting on Calista would cheer you up," Beatrice said. "Why don't you try that?"

Thinking about Calista appeared to put Alistair at ease. However, he felt a small storm still bubbling up in his stomach. He needed to distract himself, so he chuckled and slumped back onto the tree next to Beatrice. Julian sat criss-crossed on the floor as he practiced a spell on a blade of grass.

The day continued to roll by as he calmed down and closed his eyes again. Perhaps the fiery girl from Ravenclaw could make him feel better emotionally. He had known her for a grand total of two days, but there was something special about her. The drive to get the treasure helped, but beyond that there was something else. She was a girl who seemed to have power and resolve. She was confident, and she was a person to work for to be in a relationship. It helped that she was stunning to look at as well; her piercing blue eyes adding to her appeal.

But then, Alistair frowned. How did she fall into all of this? He had touched her, but felt less of a connection than Aisen. Maybe she was not mentally linked to what was happening. What if he told her about the incident with Aisen? She would certainly be interested. Perhaps if he helped her, she would be more interested in him as a person.

Alistair smiled to himself as he cocked his head back. Yes, she would be his soon. She was just a person he would have to work for. In the meantime, he needed to relax. Calisa, and the treasure, could wait a few hours.

* * *

 **Welcome back everybody! I missed you all. I apologize this one took a little time. However, I have been moving, and I needed to settle in a little before things got hectic. We all need a release from day-to-day life, so I hope this can help.**

 **But please review and tell me about the chapter! What is going on? Is any plotting that you know of happening? What was up with the weird dream? Tell me about the characters and dialogue? Is it entertaining? Is there anything you want to see?**

 **I do have one request. I love the cover art for this fic. It's the poster to the film Trainspotting. A great movie! That being said, I am looking for something a little more original. Maybe some art of one of the characters. Let me know if you know anyone that can help with that!**

 **Please let me know what you think! You are the reason I do this, so every extra word on every extra review motivates me all the way!**

 **Thank you. See you soon!**


	11. New Secrets Of The Chamber

"Our brothers went at it again."

Lacie Burghley could not help the chuckle that erupted from her. The Ravenclaw girl new her brother would cause more trouble than usual this year. She clutched he books to her chest and bounded about next to the taller Audrey. They traversed up the spiral stone staircase towards the Ravenclaw common room. The sun almost disappeared over the temperate forests outside.

The atmosphere through the stained glass windows had a brilliant smattering of purple and wisps of periwinkle. Inside, the halls had a cozy warmth shielding them from the cool night. The stone and brick enclosed them up through the masonry tube towards the entrance.

"How did they get so rough with each other?"

Audrey rolled her eyes with a tight grin. "Alistair doesn't help. He gets carried away when trying to show off."

Audrey did not look quite like Alistair much. She was more of a brunette, wearing her hair down past her shoulders. She was a little ganglier as far as body build goes. Even their skin complexion was different with Audrey being a shade paler as if she had not spent a much time in the sun. She appeared a little more trustworthy, her eyes not quite as wide and vibrant as Alistair's and instead honey-tinted. The pair also looked quite different as the carried onward through the warm walkway.

Lacie differed slightly from her brother as well. Obviously, she had a more feminine build, looking more mature for her age than a fifth year should look. Her hazel eyes jumped around, examining the area around them. Her platinum blonde hair, styled in a French Plait, was slightly frazzled from the humidity in the air. One would peg her as being quite fussy and materialistic, something she had to admit she shared with Robbie.

"Robbie has always been like that. I'm surprised the castle hasn't collapsed from his ego," Lacie chirped. "He thinks the whole castle has to bow down to him."

"Alistair's like a puppy," Audrey said. "He just wants to have fun all the time and that's it. He's not going to make it as an auror if he keeps this up. Not to mention, his grades suck. He's like this at home, by the way. Never serious."

Lacie blinked. "He wants to do that? Auror?"

"Nope," Audrey said. "But my parents are really pressuring him to figure his life out at this point. But he has no idea what he wants to do. So he puts it off and just messes around the whole year. Then, he gets my help when he needs school work done. I wish he'd just pick something already."

Lacie looked down and swallowed Audrey's words. "I wish it was that easy."

Heading down the stairs, they noticed a tall boy with scars crossing his face keeping his head down. They stopped conversation as Warren descended down the steps. Once he disappeared, Audrey looked over at Lacie. Whenever Warren Monger walked by, a quiet din swallowed the people around him. He always had a suspicious appeal to him, something that the other members of the House debated to no end. Lacie was convinced he was a vampire of some kind, but she had no evidence.

"Things are getting weird in Ravenclaw," Audrey said to break the silence.

"That's not normal?" Lacie said.

"People are looking for that treasure. Or starting to. I'm glad people want to explore the castle, but this obsession is overkill. I overheard some of the people in our House. That girl Alistair really likes. Alistair, too. Something about being remembered in Hogwarts."

Lacie groaned as they made it to the Ravenclaw entrance. "It's too much worry. Unless it's like a really rare piece of jewelry, it's not worth it."

Audrey scoffed. "There's more to life than jewelry."

Lacie clasped the ruby broach pinned on her robes. "Jewelry is an emotional treasure. How would we get along with people without it?"

The pair stopped at the entrance to the common room. Audrey turned to the taller girl.

"You don't need to be flashy all the time. You're beginning to sound like your brother now."

"What's wrong with that?" A deeper voice said.

Both girls jumped as the turned to the guy in the corner. Robbie had his arms crossed as his face was cast in the shadows of the lantern flickering on its holder against the wall. He pulled himself up to full height and emerged into the lantern light.

"Hello, Lacie. Leonhardt." Robbie presented a curt nod towards Audrey.

"Hey, Robbie. How'd that pie last night taste?" Audrey smiled back at him. Just like her brother, they possessed an antagonistic relationship with each other. Being a seventh year, Audrey did not have to deal with him much to her appreciation. Unfortunately, she knew that his and Alistair's frequent spats with each other would cause them to be in close proximity to each other. Audrey had a sneaking suspicion that at least one of the two had a crush on the other, and the taunting was just masking their deep feeling sofr each other. She criticized herself since she realized that idea was mostly the work of smutty romance novels and something muggles called fanfiction.

Lacie couldn't help the small giggle at her words.

Robbie pinched his nose. "You know, I really thought you'd be the less annoying of the two. I guess it runs in the family."

"Punching my brother kinda makes me not want to be super nice to you," Audrey said. "And this coming from someone who has wanted to smack sense into him for a while."

Done with Audrey's back talk, Robbie gestures towards Lacie. "Can I talk to you?"

* * *

In the small cupboard a floor down, Lacie wipes off the dust from the oak workbench before sitting down on it. The air was stuffed with broom-polishing finish and old paint. Lacie also knew that curfew was coming up soon. If this was a ploy to get points taken from Ravenclaw, Lacie would have to jinx her brother. She would not fall for that ploy again. She drummed her fingers on the wood beneath her. She never thought of herself as super close to her brother. The shadow her athletic brother cast over her made her existential crisis of figuring out her life difficult.

She snuck a glance at the inside cover of her textbook, folded open for her viewing. A picture of her with a group of female friends graced the photo taken out of a cobblestone castle. A sign behind them was obscured, but the french writing made Lacie's heart tug at her chest for a second. She wondered if she would have been better off staying at Beauxbatons. Not that she was not quite popular here, but maybe life would be easier to figure out there.

"Couldn't we talk in a place less likely to give me a disease?" Lacie said. "Besides, it's late.

Robbie closed the door behind him. He leaned back on it and glared at Lacie. "What's happening in your House?"

Lacie sneered at Robbie. "What's happening in your House?"

Robbie scoffed. "Gryffindor is fine, thank you very much. But you have weird people doing weird things. That Ravenclaw girl keeps sneaking into Sixth year classes."

"She actually is in sixth year charms," Lacie said softly.

"That weird guy with the scars always brooding," Robbie counted on his hand. "That snake that keeps snooping around for gossip. Both her and that other guy. And I see others around. They keep researching about this object."

"We're smart," Lacie said. "We're supposed to unlock mysteries."

Robbie shook his head. Running a hand through his hair, his eyes softened as he rubbed a piece of dust from his cheek. "Just don't get wrapped up in it."

"I wasn't planning on it," Lacie said. "But I don't need you to tell me."

"I want to find it," Robbie said. "I heard rumors that it's already causing problems, so I'm going to stop it."

"So now you wanna play hero," Lacie said as she sighed.

"I've always been a hero," Robbie said. "Remember my forth year? That Edmund guy was getting assaulted by that Ravenclaw? Who jinxed that guy?"

"They were snogging, Robbie," Lacie let out an exasperated sigh. "Edmund and Lex are flaming gay. They try to keep it a secret."

Robbie's face dropped. "Well, it looked pretty violent. The point is that I'm going to find this, and I think I already know where it is."

Lacie bucked up in her seat. "Really?"

"Yes," Robbie roared. "I know you think I just look in a mirror at myself all day, but I can do things, too."

"So where is it?" Lacie asked.

"The Chamber of Secrets." Robbie said. "When Harry Potter went there, he found that diary that was haunting people, right? So this might be doing the same."

"Great job, Sherlock," Lacie said. "That makes perfect sense. It's a secret, so it has to be in the Chamber."

"Are you being sarcastic to me?"

"Gonna throw me in time out, brother?" Lacie replied with a snappy bite. "Besides, you do know how to get in? You need to speak Parseltongue! Why can't you just play your Quidditch and leave it alone. Besides, even if you did find it, what would you do with it? Nothing. You heard McGonagall. And I will tell you, Robbie. For as amazing as you think you are, you will not be worthy of whatever this is."

Robbie shook his head. "I have resources for getting into the Chamber. And you're wrong about everything else."

Robbie puffed up his collar and strode to the door. He had hoped his sister would be more supportive of him. He was wrong. This is what he got for wanting to be nice and have her informed of his activities for once!

Just as he reached for the doorknob, a cringe rolled into his face. He whipped back around on his heels and soaked up a quick breath. "By the way, what Leonhardt said in the Great Hall? Wha happened after the Christmas Ball last y-?"

"None of your business," Lacie crosses her arms. "I'm not discussing that that with you." Lacie said, the memory of the Slytherin beginning to plague her mind. It was not one of her proudest moments. Honestly, she was surprised Alistair had not thrown it in Robbie's face earlier.

"Tell me before I decide to feed him to one of Hagrid's spiders," Robbie ordered.

"If it makes you feel better," Lacie shot back like an expert tennis player. "It was very quick and boring. He has no stamina at all. I expected better from a Quidditch player."

Robbie's eye twitched. "He's not a Quidditch player."

He flung the door opened and shot through it like a zipping snitch. He slammed the door shut behind him, leaving Lacie to shake her head like a disappointed mom.

* * *

The leaking faucet echoed with every drip of the water.

The droplets sparkled in the din moonlight of the circular full moon that bathed the second floor girl's restroom. The stone basin sinks were worn down by years of use and disrepair. Most people did not use this restroom anymore. The silver stall walls were coated with graffiti. Musty tile dotted the floor underneath Robbie's feet as he waltzed into the room. His ink-black leather shoes clacked on the tile, emanating a heavy click that reverberated around the hallways. The air was musty, filled with the stench of unused soap and leaking pipes containing everything the castle had to offer.

Robbie knocked twice on the sink. The door to the first stall kicked open. Cas stumbled out; the scowl on his face sat dormant, almost permanent as he slogged through a puddle.

"You're late," Cas growled.

Robbie snorted. "Hey, Cas? Remind me to kill Leonhardt tomorrow."

"Again?"

"You have the brooms?" Robbie asked.

Cas rolled his eyes. He went back to the stall and reached between the stall door and the linoleum wall. He whipped himself back to Robbie with two brooms clutched in each hand. Robbie smiled at the sight of his Firebolt and a used Cleansweeper.

"Hold on to them. We need them to get out," Robbie said as he turned to the basin.

"How am I going to lose brooms?"

Robbie ignored him and pulled out a piece of paper. Deciphering the scribble on the paper, he cleared his throat. He had never attempted to speak in this way. However, the coded inscription of what to say was common knowledge. There was a certain accent he was sure would unlock the Chamber, but many students had failed. Robbie, as he smoothed out the parchment between his lengthy fingers, was confident he could crack the code. He was sure the Chamber would unlock if he had good intentions. Ending this crazy hunt would be one of those qualifications, he thought.

Robbie cleared his throat and drew a short breath. He commenced the hissing. Strange seething snuck through his teeth with every flicker of his tongue. Cas crossed his arms and took a deep sigh. Here he was again. Cas, the friend of this moron, roped into another scheme. It was almost as bad as third year when Robbie attempted to find some dumb map that told the owner of every person's whereabouts in the castle. He was unsuccessful.

Once he took one last hiss, Robbie smiled to himself while gazing at the basin. He tensed up to prepare for stagnant floor to roar into a tremor with the opening of the entryway.

The only noise heard was the distant flushing of a toilet. Absolutely nothing happened.

"You actually have to know parseltongue, idiot," Cas bellowed.

Just before Robbie intended on throwing a roll of soaked paper towels at Cas direction, footsteps echoed from down the hallway. They crescendoed with every light tap escalating down the corridor. Without a word, Robbie leaped over to Cas and pulled at his arm. They went towards one of the stalls. Robbie pulled the door closed with the litheness of a robber breaking into a bank.

Pacing into the room, Warren's robed wavered around him as he pulled out his wand. He halted himself at the base of the sinks. He took his wand out and muttered a quick spell. Robbie's eyes grew as he knew the spell. He was trying to detect people in the area. He flailed his arms attempting to snag his wand. Cas, however, was prepared and whispered the Disillusionment Charm.

Robbie heaved a quiet sigh of relief as they spied on Warren. The Ravenclaw, content with his detection spell, straightened his back to full height and glared at the basin.

Just as Robbie was about to ask Cas what he planned to do, flawless hissing croaked through Warren's lips. Instead, Robbie gasped as if he saw a centaur beheading a unicorn.

"Fuck," Robbie could only muster a curse.

As soon as Warren finished, the basin jarred to a start. It descended downward like an elevator, twisting with the violence of a quick toilet flush. Once it halted it's movement, a deep hole revealed the dearth of space underneath the bathroom. Warren perched himself at the edge and eyed the pit. With a flash of his wand, he took the plunge downward.

Robbie waited a few seconds to ensure Warren was gone. Then, he grabbed Cas's shoulder and shook them as if he was waking him up from a nasty Jinx.

"He's a Parseltongue," Robbie croaked. "A Parseltongue!"

Cas slapped his hands away. "I heard him. I know."

"He's, like, evil then. Right?" Robbie flipped out.

Cas opened the door and headed towards the pit. Robbie followed him forward, his wand now squeezed in his hand and pointed at the entrance. Robbie had to admit that he grew increasingly nervous. He was entering uncharted territory. As far as he knew, nobody since Ron Weasley had entered the Chamber. Now, that scary Ravenclaw just waltzed right in like it was his common room. Not only that, everything Robbie had learned about Dark Magic showed to him that Parseltongue was a deep taboo that hinted at evil. Okay, so maybe Harry Potter was not evil, but at least a small part of him was according to what he heard. He still was unsure of the specifics.

"Broom time," Robbie quivered.

Cas lurched himself back. "You're still wanting to do this shit."

"What is he doing down there?" Robbie asked. "He might be doing something that can hurt peop-."

"Don't act like you're a hero," Cas whispered with anger. "You're just doing this to be popular."

"I'm already popular," Robbie said. His eyes narrowed into resolve as he looked down at the void. "But someone needs to save the day."

"If it's you," Cas growled. "We're doomed."

* * *

It did not take long to get Cas to come with him. Robbie admitted that he was quite loyal to him, although he felt that Cas's reluctance almost overshadowed him. Perhaps the sole reason he came was that Robbie's death would most likely weigh on him like a brick resting on his shoulder. The descent on the brooms was easy. The dark tunnels seemed to narrow with every drive into the ivy-lined corridors.

Robbie wiped off drops of dew leaking from the cold rocks jutting from every side of the corridor's surfaces. Soon, they appeared at the chamber. The entrance was already opened to reveal the interior of the Chamber. Robbie and Cas zoomed to a halt on the sides of the cave; the brick and moist cobblestone chilled to the touch as they leaned on each side. Robbie took a peek and saw Warren in the center of the room. He sat in a meditating position. From behind, it appeared he was summoning something, but he was unsure what the guy was doing.

"What do we do?" Cas asked.

Robbie gulped and decided to take action. Whatever was going on, he knew he had to put a stop to it. This is the Gryffindor way, he thought to himself as he took a cautious step forward. Abandoning his Firebolt at the entrance, he tiptoed over the graphite-tinted cobblestone, sneaking past the statues of Basilisks that lined the center pathway. Warren was seated directly in front of the large statue at the end of the cavern.

Robbie hid behind one of the statues. He was relieved to see Cas on the other side, his broom also dormant at the door. They both stood feet from Warren who remained as still as the air that reeked of sewage and chipped marble on the snake monuments. There was silence. Warren was still sitting there. It was as if he was completely paralyzed. Robbie had no idea what he was going to encounter in the Chamber. He had hoped for treasure. Instead, he felt like he was stumbling into a deep secret that would impale his dreams with shock and anxiety for a long time.

Warren grunted.

Robbie tensed up, his wand pointed right at Warren in preparation.

Then, Warren gaped out in shock. He fell over in front of himself, clutching the ground like he was about to fall into a deep cave. He breathed heavier, more grunts escaping his breath. He rolled onto his side while clutching his stomach. A deep pain was painted over his face.

Robbie had enough. Whatever was happening, Warren was either becoming possessed by something or was initiating some sort of dark ritual. He stepped out of the shadows and raised up his want to eye level.

"Fuck, stop Robbie," Cas whispered.

Robbie ignored his words and prepared himself for a fight. " _Stupefy!_ "

Warren flipped himself over towards Robbie. His eyes widened as his pupils dilated into slits. The spell punched his gut. However, to Robbie's horror, it rebounded and whizzed inches past his head.

"You! Ravenclaw," Robbie shouted. "What're you doing?"

Warren seethed as he glared at Robbie. "You're...going to...regret that."

Robbie shouted out as he saw the transformation begin. Warren's clothes ripped as he grew large. Brown bristles grew out of his alabaster skin. His spine curved as he grew taller and bigger from his middle. He had morphed into a creature. Robbie leaped back to examine the sight. What was a human before had become something primal. Something he had not imagined reached its full height. The creature shot up to its hind legs and let out a deep growl. Suddenly, it roared. The sound echoed into a massive, catastrophic blast that made Robbie cover his ears.

The werewolf looked down and spotted Robbie. It snorted, and Robbie let out a cry as he realized what it was about to do. The claws gripped deep into the stone and lurched forward. The werewolf charged forward like a rocketing snitch through the clear sky. Robbie saw it loom larger. Larger. Larger. He was frozen in place as if somebody had cast a freezing charm on himself. It was feet away. Inches.

Robbie grunted as the body slammed into his side. He and Cas skidded towards the side. They tumbled together before crashing into one of the statues.

" _Accio_ ," Cas pointed at the brooms. Robbie mentally cheered as he saw both broom fly towards them.

But the werewolf turned around, its eyes targeting the pair. It reared back and growled again before jamming itself forward one more time. It charged forward with the ferocity of an incoming cannon shot.

The brooms were faster, however. It was a race to see which would arrive first: the brooms or their deaths.

Robbie saw the brooms and reached out as far as he could. They emerged larger in his hazel eyes with every inch of air the Firebolt cut through.

The werewolf howled one more time as it leaped up in the air. It was ready to pounce.

Robbie snagged the wood from the air, intercepting his Firebolt as Cas grabbed his broom. Robbie knew for just a second he would have to jump forward in order to escape and edge himself closer to the jaws of the animal. He knew he had to grow his strength from somewhere. He knew what he was supposed to be. He was brave, and the past Gryffindors that found and tamed the vault would see him through.

He launched himself forward. For just a second, his eyes locked with the werewolf's. He had not had much interaction with Warren, but he saw his reflection off of his iris. He would be remembering those eyes for a while as he traversed the hallways.

And then the broom flung himself towards the exit into salvation.

* * *

Robbie would be quite upset with himself later onward if anybody else found out his secret. Not Warren's but his own. He was glad Cas was there to maintain his composure, rustling to himself about how this was yet another headache on his plate. Robbie told himself that what followed when they arrived back at the common room after a hefty and panicked run was a result of his bravery and that fighting a werewolf, even if he technically did no such thing, was worthy of the glory that he felt he owed to the past history of Gryffindors. Perhaps he could now be etched into that long list of heroes.

For that night, however, Robbie would be considered for no such thing as he promptly, in exhaustion and shock, passed out once he entered the common room.

* * *

 **So things that maybe don't relate to the treasure have occurred. Or maybe they have! But the deep and not-so-subtle secret of Warren's is now known by Robbie and Cas. Do they keep their mouths shut? Do they blabber? Does Warren make them pay?**

 **But please tell me what you think? Did you like the conversation earlier? Did you like anything else? Characters? Dialogue? The imagery of the story? Let me know! Reviews are what fuels me, so keep up the wonderful work! You have all done so well reviewing, and it could only improve from here.**

 **Thank you. See you soon!**


	12. Revealing Nothing To Everyone

Aisen knew he was asleep.

There was no doubt about it as his body seemed to be levitated as if he were floating in the ocean. There was no smell nor sound in the nothingness. The blackness wrapped itself around him like the swaddling blankets he knew covered his real body.

This was different.

He wondered if this was what people called a lucid dream. The dearth of dark remained painted over his eyes; there was no end to it. It was an abyss that he neither fell nor raised himself up in. Aisen was stagnant like a bobbing pumice stone and awaited the next wave to hit him. His limbs were lifeless akin to a puppet controlled by a marionette. Not even his heartbeat registered a thump in his chest, for if it did, the organ would be well on its way to blowing a hole out of his tightened chest from fear.

He wondered if this strange curse was trying to suffocate him in his sleep. He read stories about beings that killed people in their dreams, therefore ending their physical mortality. His arms were pinned at his sides, an imaginary harness ties snug around his middle. Even his messy blonde hair was still and held itself to his scalp.

Aisen tried to breath, but he could not so that either. He tried to shout out, but the black muffled his voice as if his wool handkerchief was shoved into it.

Where am I?

Who am I?

Why am I existing?

That's when the tungsten light above beamed down on his head.

Sound rebounded towards him; the source of it crawled from the hole. Being directly over his head, he assumed that he was standing upright.

The light illuminated the space around him. The tunnel was still black, but he saw the electric rigging and cords crossing around the tunnel like ebony snakes fighting for food. His heart began to beat again. He opened his mouth and raked in a deep breath, grateful that his lungs regained usage. In fact, the rest of his body did as well. He waved his arms out and felt the cool steel of the tunnel. He looked down at himself. The thing around his waist was a leather belt holding up pristine, white tailored dress pants. An ornate black dress vest clung to his torso underneath a white hoodie draped around him. A scarlet tie, knotted in a double Windsor, choked his narrow neck. He thought he looked more like he was dressed for a party at one of those muggle schools. Colleges, he believed they were called.

"Hey," he attempted to shout out. Hearing his squeaking voice, he knocked on the wall.

"Hey, let me out!" Aisen shouted.

Aisen rocked forward as the platform jolted to a start. Aisen panted as it rose up like water gushing from a fountain. The hydraulic hiss soon became overcome with the wide din of...cheering? Chanting? Aisen was unsure. The platform drew nearer to the surface. The light started to blind him, causing Aisen to shield his violet eyes.

A few feet more.

A few inches more.

Aisen closed his eyes and hugged himself. Palpable heat drenched his body as he broke the surface.

The platform stopped. The chanting's apex nearly made his ears explode like a dragon's roar.

The light faded away, Aisen's eyes adjusting to the sight. He blinked as if he were swatting away a fly. He looked out at the sea.

Sea of screaming fans bobbing up and down like hungry minnows.

"What is up, people!" A voice bellowed out. It was further amplified by the weird speakers on the sides of what Aisen now saw was a stage.

And what a stage it was. Bright rectangles flashed every color of the rainbow. They blinked with the ferocity of a telegraph system dotting a message. The rectangles performed a halo around the back of the stage with a deep blue screen lighting up the back. Several musical instruments gleamed on small racks dotting the area towards the back of the stage. Five white spotlights hung overhead. One of which beat down on Aisen as he whipped himself towards the source of the voice.

It was Robbie, his fellow Gryffindor poised in the middle of the stage. He was dressed in the same outfit as him. However, his usual self-assured smirk was just obscured by a strange thin device that ran towards the side of his mouth. Perhaps a microphone of some kind.

"You ready for to jam!" Robbie said.

The shouting people hopped up and down. Aisen shifted on his feet as their roaring caused the ground to shake. The boy looked over to his right past Robbie. His eyes widened at the others in the group.

Alistair, his green eyes electrified with joy, smacked a gentle air kiss towards the crowd and shot a quick wink. A ripple of sighs and screeches emanated from a legion of female fans.

Then, there was Edmund. Aisen gasped as he saw his friend in the same outfit as his next to himself. With his perfectly gelled hair, Edmund smiled while gave a sheepish wave at the crowd that reacted with the same fervor as Alistair's greeting.

Next to Alistair at the opposite end of the stage was a Ravenclaw Aisen had seen from time to time. A sixth year, he looked the same as usual. However, the scars that lined his face were gone, leaving a smooth alabaster flesh strung taut to his cheekbones. He grunted and put his head up in the air as a sign of mysterious apathy. It was almost as if he was looking down on the fans. However, they admired how mysterious and dark Warren appeared to be with his black, almost emo-styled hair and graphite eyes.

Aiden then looked down at himself. He held out his hand and began to count. Some of the more annoying screamers thought he was welcoming them as well, so another swell of shrieking worse than a mandrake zoomed into his ears.

Five of them. All dressed the same. On a stage.

Robbie, the leader. Loud and confident.

Alistair, the hearthrob. Flirtatious and charming.

Edmund, the shy one. Soft-spoken and endearing.

Warren, the dark one. Mysterious and brooding.

Aisen pointed at himself. The cute one. An excitable blonde. Cheerful and humorous. '

It was at this point that Aisen decided to lay off all of the strange manga that he had hidden away under Edmund's bed. They were starting to seep into his soul and pollute it. Then again, that was most manga readers, and they did not seem to mind.

Why is this dream happening?

Why are we speaking Japanese?

Why am I in a boy band?

"Let's go!" They all shouted together. Aisen could not believe he did it, but now something else was controlling his body and voice. He raced into formation with the others.

The crowd shouted louder. They prepared for the song. With a bang, the poppy and electronically synthesized music began. They launched into a massive group dance, the like of which he had not known before. However, his limbs moved in coordination with the others. Blinding lights flashed faster, excluding into a blinding kaleidoscope of color and music.

This is the dumbest dream I've ever had.

" _Can't stand a downpour_ ," Robbie started to sing.

" _We'll that's what's in store_ ," Alistair sung.

" _Don't overthink it. Go with the flow._ " Warren chimed in.

Suddenly, Aisen found himself face to face with Edmund. They looked at each other, a bright smile on each of their faces. Aisen notcied Edmund appeared a little nervous, but Aisen continued in his peppy reverie.

" _You gotta take a breath and let the real you show_ ," They bellowed out in unison.

The rest of the members stopped as Robbie stood in the center again. He pointed up at the ceiling to the massive ampitheater before lowering his arm towards his fans. "Baby it's showtime for all your dreams.

What does any of this have to do with anything?

" _Give me, give me, give me, give me a break_!" They all chanted together. Then, they repeated the pattern of singing for the rest of the members from the first verse. Aisen was still in his mid-dream fugue, but he had to admit that this dream was more pleasant than others he had in the past. A lively concert was much nicer to view than nightmare materials like Hermoine Granger having a relationship with that whining Slytherin bully that worked with Voldemort (Aisen had overheard from that Ravenclaw Alistair had become very interested in, Calista, that this occurred at some point).

Warren hopped over towards the middle of the stage while Alistair moonwalked back into his previous spot. Aisen was not even sure he was flexible enough to pull off a double backflip standing. However, he did it as he bounded back into the triangle formation they had started in.

" _You can Make. Dreams. Come True._ " They blurted out together as the chorus began.

" _Set your sites up. Higher!_

 _Cause all the stars will shine._

 _Brighter! From far away, they're waiting for you!_

 _To reach all your dreams!_

 _And when you do, keep on charging through."_

" _Always reach out_!" Alistair broke out as the rest of the group paused for an instant.

" _Farther, and feel your heart it beats_ ," they all continued. " _Faster! So take your mark; evoke every dream. And dive straight ahead. Into this brand new world_ ," the held out the last note before giving a synchronized twirl.

" _Never give up_!"

Once they finished the song, the crowd was as rambunctious as ever. People were climbing over each other just to get a better look at them. Aisen wrestled breath into himself; beads of sweat tumbled down his forehead. The other members were the same way. However, different emotions crossed their faces. Warren appeared completely done with life as he shunned away from the spotlights, a deadpan frown on his face. Edmund shrunk into himself, nervous but happy he made it though. Alistair winked again while Robbie basked in the center glow, holding up his arms to gesture at the crowd.

"I know where it is!" Robbie blurted to the fans.

Aisen rebuked at the words. That was a weird thing to say to fans.

"What your looking for is in the shadow," Edmund explained.

Aisen leered at Edmund "What does that mean?" He asked over the roar of fans.

"Are you stupid?" Warren huffed towards him. Aisen veered around in confusion.

"We're telling you the treasure is in the dungeons," Alistair smiled in a cheerful voice. "Next to the professor's office!"

* * *

Aisen launched himself upward like a rocketship. His heart racing, he flailed his arms in front of him for protection. However, he saw nobody was around the dormitory. He remembered where he was. He remained in Hogwarts, the memories of the past dream enveloping him. His face flushed with the redness of his sheets as whipped his head around.

However, he gulped once he remembered the last part of it.

"I know where it is."

* * *

The painting of the Fat Lady shrieked as it walloped the wall behind it. It's hinges nearly broke as Aisen bolted through the hallway. He huffed as he charged down the walkway to the strange eyes of the spying students. It was only Wednesday after all. Why was a student already running through the hallways?

Callie, who was walking calmly to lunch, shrieked when she saw the boy whizz past her. She dropped her books and bopped herself onto the stone wall behind her.

"Sorry," Aisen shouted.

Callie clutched her heart as she regained her composure. Something was going on the in Gryffindor House from what she heard. Just the previous night, she heard whispers from students about Robbie and his friend passing out in the Gryffindor common room. She was unsure what happened next, but witnessess say they acted like they had just seen a ghost. Before Callie could comment about how that was normal at the school, she notcied the students looking at her. That was her cue to run away.

Callie grabbed her books and toed past the door, her Hufflepuff robes wrinkled up from her scare. She started up a set of stairs to her hideaway on the seventh floor. Whatever was happening, she hoped it had nothing to do with Warren. The sixth year was very fascinating to her. Ever since he had come back to school with those marks back in third year, she had wondered who the man was and his story. Based off her research, she had a feeling he was either perfecting some dark magic, or there was a small chance that he was a werewolf. Considering Robbie had been frightened by something the night of a full moon, Callie was afraid the pieces were being put together.

Reaching the seventh floor, Callie breathed to retain her steady heart rate. However, just as she was about to round the corner of the fifth floor, she heard a thunk around the turn.

Two shadows were cast by lanterns over the intersection of the hallways. Callie, noticing a marble bust of, oddly enough, the new Defense Against The Dark Arts Professor Donald, she hunched over and squatted behind the statue.

Around the corner, Warren held up Robbie by his collar, leaning in and seething at the supposedly taller man. Robbie, his hazel eyes wide and alarmed, tried to grasp at Warren's wrists.

"Have you told anyone," Warren growled in a deep and threatening voice. Callie gave a silent gasp and leaned around the bust. She could just see the edges of Warren's body as it grasped at his victim. She hoped he would not hurt Robbie. She did not believe she could step in.

Robbie grunted. "About wha-?

The pinned man groaned out as Warren smacked his frame against the wall again.

"Okay, I haven't," Robbie struggled to get out.

Warren's eyes narrowed. "And you know what I'll do if you decide to tell."

Robbie struggled for air as Warren's knuckles dug into his soft neck. He brought his arms up and tried to wrestle himself out of Warren's grasp. "I get it, mate!" Robbie cried out. "I won't tell."

Warren, still unconvinced, decided to throw Robbie down to the floor. He sat on the ground and massaged his hurt throat. He lassoed air back into his lungs, trying to regain his composure. He looked down at the ground trying to process what happened to him in the past day or so. He had not felt anything out of the ordinary. Sure, he had a strage feeling that his sister was being roped into this mess about the treasure, but he was confident that he would unlock something about it. Instead, he stumbled upon a very deep personal secret of this strange Ravenclaw that he never talked to before. He had always thought of Warren as lame and antisocial. However, this secret he was now burdened with would change a lot about how he handled classes with him.

Robbie looked up at Warren who was looming above like a crow over an animal carcass. "So, how long has that been going o-."

"I'm not talking about this anymor-."

Just as Warren turned to leave, Callie huddled herself behind the bust. Then, Robbie clasped his hand on Warren's wrist.

"Hold up. I just want to say..."

Warren raised an eyebrow and looked down at the boy. It almost appeared that he was requesting, no, pleading something to him. Warren realized he had quite a bit of control over the vulnerable, so called "King of Gryffindor."

"My sister. This has nothing to do with her," Robbie said. "You're in the same house. But please don't do anything to her."

Warren sneered at him and shook off his hand. "You really think I'm a monster like that? That I'll just attack anything that I dislike?"

"Well," Robbie stated. "You attacked me."

Warren grunted and turned the other way. "There's no reason I would do anything to her," He stopped and turned his head over his shoulder, granting him one last glare at Robbie. "Unless you gave me one."

As he walked down the hallway, silence echoed throughout the empty hallway. Callie felt her own face, sheet-white and cold as the moist hallways leading towards the dungeons. She would not be surprised if it was a dementor causing that frigid feeling. However, she rationed that it was simply her adrenaline at peak levels from witnessing this event. Callie heard Robbie pick himself up with a small groan. She took this as her time to escape the floor.

She hustled back from whence she came and hopped down the steps like a rabbit chased by a fox. Questions bounced through her head with every slam of her shoes onto the staircase. Robbie found out something of Warren. Maybe it had nothing to do with the treasure. Perhaps it did, but Warren was caught doing something else. What did Robbie mean when he asked how long this had been going on for? Then it couldn't be about the treasure. Unless, did Warren know what it was?

And how were they connected in this way?

Reaching the first floor, Callie raced over towards the Great Hall. She knew who to talk to at Lunch. However, just as she made it to the atrium's stone steps, she noticed another body right in front of her. She collided into him from behind. She had slowed down enough to where it felt like a simple tap to the older boy's shoulders as she bounced off his assured frame.

He turned around and flashed a nice smile. "Oh, hey. Callie, right?"

Callie panted as she raised her arms in front of her. "I'm sorry. I didn't see y-."

"Relax," Alistair said. He held out his palms in a sign of benevolence. "I've been meaning to talk to you anyway. I wanted to say sorry for Julian on the tr-."

"Apology accepted," Callie bumbled. She had completely forgotten about the incident on the train. She had felt no ill will towards any of them since. Not just because Julian sort of apologized earlier, but because of the craziness she had been dumped inside. "Have you seen Calista around?"

Alistair smirked as he crossed his arms. "You aren't planning on stealing her from me?"

"What? No, I-."

"You would be tough competiti-."

"I need to tell Calista something!"

"I do as well," Alistair said as he ran a hand through his carefully sculpted hair. He reached in his robe pocket for his wand. Yanking it out, he pointed it at the Great Hall. " _Accio, Calista._ "

Callie's breath lurched. However, nothing happened.

"Damn," Alistair said. "Still can't do that spell yet."

"You could just ask for me, you know?"

Behind Alistair, Calista had her arms crossed in front of her, an apathetic expression painted on her face.

* * *

The cupboard changed none from when they were inside it a couple of days ago. The only thing Calista knew was different was the extra person in the room. Calista sat on the same workbench Alistair had been at when she patched him up from his fight. She had not been able to speak with Callie much over the past week, but here the angelic looking girl was completely freaking out as she shivered in the corner. Alistair glanced a small shade of concern as he noticed how torn up the Hufflepuff girl was at the moment. Seated in a ricketing wooden chair next to Callie, Alistair cleared his throat at the standing and fidgeting girl.

Callie leaped up like a frog at the sound. She was on edge from everything at the moment.

"So," Alistair trailed off. He waited for a pair of footsteps to clear the area outside the cupboard room, much adding to Callie's anxiety. "Did you want to go first?"

"I think I know where the treasure is," Callie blurted.

Calista's eyes grew with a sense of anticipation. She leaned forward and tightened up her limbs. Absolutely no leads for the first few days, and already this girl she had met on the train had proven useful.

"Wait a minute," Alistair said. "I know where the treasure is."

Calista batted her eyes between the two like a teetering tennis ball in play. She threw her hands up in frustration and cocked her neck towards them. She wanted this hunt to be over and done with as soon as possible. She could not go a whole year with this weighing on her mind.

"Where is it?" Calista demanded.

Callie shrunk into herself. "I don't know exactly, but I think Warren knows."

Calista's face dropped at the mention of her housemate. She had already spoken to him on this before, but she was unable to gleam anything from her. She had much doubt she could convince him to relinquish anything. "Why?"

Callie shook her head. "I don't know all the details, but you heard the rumors about Robbie and Cas last night? I was up on the seventh floor, and I saw Warren threatening Robbie to not say anything about some secret. But I think its something that he has known or had for a while since before the start of the school year."

"He's a werewolf, isn't he?"

Callie guffawed as Alistair shot his crush a pedantic face. "That's a pretty major assumption."

Calista rolled her bright blue eyes and stepped off the workbench. She chose to lean on it standing on her feet instead. "He disappears every thirty days at night and breaks curfew. I've seen him leave. The potions professors for the past three years are required to have a stock of Wolfsbane Potion ready for 'emergency use.' And I guess the games of tic-tac-toe on his face help as well. Not to mention, his teeth are a little more pointy than they should be, but that might just be a thing he has," Calista explained. "And he hides in the Chamber of Secrets when it happens."

"The what?" Alistair honked as he rocked in his chair.

After the monologue, Callie whimpered. "I don't know for sure, but I think he might be hiding something there with him."

"Well," Calista said. "It's a good place to start. Even if he doesn't have anything stashed away, it would be interesting to visit that place. I've never been. Although we will need a Parseltongue. Do you think if we threaten him with revealing his secret, he'd let us in?" Calista asked more to herself.

"No!" Callie yelled out. "He almost choked Robbie, and he swore up and down he wasn't going to tell."

"That's kinda evil, too," Alistair said. "I mean, I don't know the guy, but I feel more bad for him than anything else.

"We don't even have real proof of this," Callie cried. "What if it has nothing to do with that?" She said, trying to convince herself otherwise of the truth.

"Besides," Alistair said. "Blackmailing him to get to the Chamber is kind of rude."

"It's for the greater good!" Calista shouted.

"The greater good." Alistair repeated in a monotone voice.

"Stop quoting muggle movies," Calista admonished. "It's getting annoying."

Alistair smirked. "Well, since you've taught me about a couple of them, I've decided to learn a bit myself. Callie, do you know about _Hot Fuzz_? I think it's actually goo-."

Callie shook her head and dropped her book stop the ground. The loud slap onto the squeaking floorboards made the room quiet as the library during study hall sessions. After seeing that they were paying attention, Callie sighed and slumped her shoulders. "We shouldn't do it."

Calista wiped away a speck of dust from her eye. "Listen, if this thing is causing problems, it's more important to get rid of it than protect some guy's secret. Besides, I don't plan on actually telling everyone," Calista gestured. "It would just be motivation to get to the Chamber and check it out."

"It's still pretty evil," Alistair said.

"Does that bother you," Callie shot back.

Alistair gave her a mischievous smile. "Not really. In fact, it kinda turns me on a bit. You being evil."

Callie bucked back at the direct words. She noticed how Calista rolled her eyes and let out a small bark of a groan. Alistair kept up his smile, almost as if he was trying to enchant the girl directly in front of him. Callie pointed at the two.

"Is something going on between you tw-."

"Of course not," Calista said, her hand clutching her chest as if she was pelted with an insult.

"Of course not yet," Alistair said with he smoothness of peanut butter.

Calista examined the boy in front of her. Yes, Alistair was completely full of himself. That being said, she was not lying to Erin when she said that the boy appeared harmless. Just an overcurious and hormonal teenager. That being said, he was still apart of this strange soul connection with other students, and it seemed to center around this object. Even if she had no designs on a relationship with him whatsoever, him being infatuated with her would be an upside in gleaming information.

"So did you think it was the Chamber, too," Calista asked Alistair.

Alistair sat back in his chair and suddenly remembered why he was there. "Oh, yeah. That reminds me. So I found out that it was in the dungeons. The room next to Professor...uh...Johnny? Tommy? Something like that. It's the one that is always locked, so no one knows where it goes. But that kid that I met the other day. Aisen. He said it was there from a dream he had. He was pretty vague about the dream, but he said that the people in it told him directly that it was in that room in the Dungeons. So we were going to check it out later tonight."

Calista scoffed at the ridiculousness of the situation. "A dream. And you believe that?"

"I believe it more than the Chamber of Secrets," Alistair said. "That would be a pretty obvious place to hide it. Also, I've seen the pictures. The place is so garish. I can't believe our House founder actually made that," He grimaced.

"Fine," Calista spat out. "How about this, Alistair?"

"You say that to me a lot. That phrase."

"You can go with your friend to the Dungeons tomorrow night. But I can't bail you out if you get in trouble."

"I bet you would," Alistair said as he stood up. He leaned forward just an inch, closing the wide gap between their faces to the point where the felt each other's breath. Calista could not help but notice he had a steel, peppermint scent to his breath. Not entirely unpleasant.

"I bet you would help if I was in danger?" He said softly.

"I guess you have a lot to learn about me," Calista said.

Alister's eyes quivered while staring deep into Calista's eyes. "Then I guess we have something in common. We both like mysteries."

Alistair could not believe the sudden change in Calista's demeanor. The way she did not back away from him. The way the corners of her lips quirked up as if she were teasing him. Even how her eyes seemed to comb over his face, as if she were wondering if it was good enough for her. Was this her version of flirting? If so, Alistair wanted to see it more often.

Calista clobbered herself mentally, but she knew that if she wanted to get on Alistair's good side, and possibly sneak her way into this treasure, she would need his help since he was involved. If this is the cost, she would have to play the game. Worst case scenario, Alistair may become less annoying as the hunt rolled on. Although to her, that was as likely as Gringotts being broken into by Harry Potter. And no, she did not believe that actually occurred.

Callie raised up a finger. "Hey guys. Do you think maybe we should tell a professor about this?"

Calista and Alistair shot matching looks of disbelief at her. "What?" They said in unison.

"A professor. Should we tell one to help us."

Silence.

Then, they both heaved into roars of laughter.

* * *

 **About 5k words here! Don't say i never did anything for you all!**

 **So what of what happened here? What do you think of the characters? Dialogue? Their motivations?**

 **Is Warren's secret out? Is Calista right or wrong for using Warren's secret and possibly Alistair? Please comment and review anything you can think of.**

 **You have all done such a great job reviewing, so keep it up! You guys are giving me the drive and energy to keep going and give you all something we can love!**

 **BTW, did you think Aisen's dream was interesting. In anime, there is something called an omake! It's basically a short and comedic scene in an anime, usually otherwise serious, that is there just to add some humor. However, I wanted Aisen's omake to still be important to the story.**

 **But mainly, I wanted to run by an idea of a boy band with these characters by you. Would you listen and love them?! Tell me what you thought of that!**

 **Also BTW, the song is from Ending Theme song for the anime Free: Eternal Summer. It's a fun lark with some heartwarming bonding. I actually recommend it quite a bit.**

 **But please keep reviewing! Spread the word! Tell me what you think will happen or what you want to happen! You're the reason I'm doing this, so let's make the best of our time together.**

 **Thank you. See you soon!**


	13. Conflicts

"What is that?"

Aisen pointed at Alistair's chest. He looked somewhat different outside of his school clothes. Less a golden boy and more a rebel, his leather jacket gleamed underneath the thin light of the burning flames perched by Professor Tommy's humble abode. His ripped jeans showed pieces of his flesh as he shuffled on his feet, wrinkling his green crew-neck shirt. The dungeon hall was damp and depressing as usual, but Alistair's cocky grin remained bright as he thumbed the object around his neck.

The ruby crystal shined as if it had a light inside itself. Outside the shirt, he caressed the crystal and tucked it underneath his shirt. "It's a Leonhardt tradition. Passed down from my line. Whenever we do something dangerous and or stupid, we wear this for luck. At least, that's what my father told me."

Aisen ruffled his hair. "Then I hope this is just stupid."

After leaving the cupboard, Alistair went his separate ways from Calista and Callie to meet the younger Gryffindor by the dungeons. He thought it was best to not tell any other students about this. He could imagine that most of Slytherin House would usher themselves out of the common room and race for the location in a heartbeat. Alistair even debated if he should discuss anything with Beatrice. However, he decided that she either did not care much or would try to get him to drop it.

When Aisen turned around, Alistair felt it again. He stifled a short grunt at the sudden pain that clenched at his chest. His heartbeat fluttering, he licked his lips and stared down at his chest. The pain was getting stronger; it was almost like his heart was detected how close they were to the treasure. He shook his head and prepared himself. He had a feeling that whatever this was would not go down without something guarding it.

Perhaps just knowing what it was would make him feel better.

Turning back towards the heavy oak door, Aisen pointed his short wand at the giant rusting padlock by the silver handle. _"Alohamora."_

Squeaks emanated from the door. With a creak, it pulled itself open just a crack. It revealed nothing but a deep dearth of darkness in front of them. The slope of the concrete floor underneath Aisen's obsidian sneakers pointed downward into the depths.

"Lead the way," Alistair said while gesturing at the entrance.

Aisen gasped. "No way! You're older than me! You go."

"But you're the one that had the dream," Alistair said.

Finding no real retort, Aisen flicked his wand again with a light charm. He hesitated and stared out at the abyss. After running like an obliviated maniac towards Alistair, he finally cornered the sixth year and explained that he knew the source of the strange connection the students were beginning to grow with each other. Alistair took his words in stride, not even questioning if Aisen was telling the truth or giving him a real lead.

His ears strained, twitching slightly to detect any sounds. Aisen had to admit that the chutzpah of possibly ending this mystery early in the year was wearing out like the dimming flicker of the light behind him. A small twinge of fear slalomed down his spine. He shivered with the temperature dropping with every idle second. He lurched forward with his wand ahead.

Meanwhile, Alistair's heart pounced with anticipation in his chest. He blinked to adjust his eyes to the darkness, but he was not complaining. He was finally going to do something that would cement his name in Hogwarts lore forever. And it was only the fourth day! This could be his most legendary year, and he smiled to himself of the image of having this prize in his hands.

The pair crossed into the dead corridor.

* * *

Warren was unhappy.

No, unhappy was a nice word. Warren was livid with almost every being in this castle. Now, not everybody had done anything worth his scorn, but the string of bad luck that crossed his path and attacked him like a stray cat swiping its claws at him. His fists clenched, he marched through the hallways with a deep scowl painted on his face. Striding like a soldier heading to battle, he glared around at any student that crossed his path. A few noticed and held themselves up against the walls of the hallway.

Robbie was a big mouth to hold his secret. There was no doubt about that. However, Warren knew his intimidation would keep Robbie at bay for a while. No, what ticked Warren off to no end was just how cautious he had been only for those efforts to fall apart. These efforts he put into concealment for the past two years might have been for nothing. Not that he was worried about popularity, but being the pariah of the castle because of his condition would do him no favors.

Shoving his hand in his pockets, he grunted as he made it to the Ravenclaw entrance. The bronze eagle knocker hung dormant until Warren used it. The eagle came to life and hummed out.

"What is funnier than twenty-four?" The eagle asked.

Warren stared at the knocker.

"Huh?"

The eagle repeated the riddle.

Warren guffawed at the eagle. He personally was never too strong on the riddles. It took him a few seconds to answer them correctly, and at times he would just give up and hide by a statue until someone answered it. His brainwaves were already frizzing with fury at Robbie and that other Gryffindor. He did not have time for these dumb games.

"Fucking question is that?"

'What is funni-."

"Twenty five."

The latch to the door jarred open and revealed the spacious Ravenclaw common room. Warren turned around at the familiar voice. He tensed up for the thousandth time that day. To add to his frustration, Calista had her arms crossed in front of her. However, Warren's face softened as he saw a nervous pale girl biting her fingernails next to her.

"Can we talk to you? In the Second Floor girls bathroom."

Warren felt his blood run colder than ever as he looked at the pair.

* * *

Aisen was the first to feel the rocking underneath his feet.

As they had descended down the slick cobblestone, the walls around them hugged the edges of the corridor and funneled closer and closer. The doorway width had degraded to the point that Alistair's broad shoulders bumped into some of the stone jutting out from the walls. Frigid water from the ceiling dropped down onto them, spiking them with a prick every few steps. It was almost like they were headed for the bottom of the Lake. A few minutes passed in silence.

Then, a rumble. Aisen waved his wand, the light still holding strong.

Another creak. The young Gryffindor stopped in his tracks. Alistair bopped into him from behind. Aisen lurched forward, grunting out as he felt the traction in his shoes slide out from underneath him. With stupendous speed, Aisen flailed his arms and righted himself.

Alistair grabbed onto his shoulders to straighten the boy out.

Then, the crash vibrated through the hallway. Aisen shouted out as he felt the sturdy terrain give way. His eyes widened with fear. He tumbled backwards, his wand flung back from where they had come from. It felt as if a pressure had squeezed the entire corridor to crumble like the cookies Aisen munched on at dinner earlier. Stone and mortar rained down as a gaping hole formed right underneath him.

Aisen screamed.

The corridor began to disappear. He began to plummet down to the unknown. Aisen's heart dropped just as fast, flashes of past memories mulling in with the sudden doom that encompassed him. He had a strange feeling that, if he fell, it would be the last breath he drew.

A hand grabbed his and heaved him upward.

Now, Alistair was not somebody who considered himself a hero.

Sure, he believed himself to be dashing and incredibly sociable. He was not a complete narcissist however. In fact, the Slytherin prided himself on being honest with who he was. He knew he was not studious. Most of his textbooks gathered dust underneath his bed, only to see the light of day during Finals. As far as his future was concerned, he had little idea or research into what he wanted to be in his lifetime. He was a selfish person. Most of his focus in life was valued based on the pleasure, both physical and emotional, he would receive. And deep down, he knew his proclivities with many of the girls at Hogwarts was morally wrong.

So it came to stand that there was no reason for Alistair to risk himself and yank Aisen from a pit of death.

He did.

Aisen yelled when he crashed onto the smooth, sturdy surface of the corridor section that had not caved in. His face banged onto the surface, but he had never been more happy to have fallen onto the ground. His breath terse and cold, he grunted while lifting himself up on his elbows. The rumbling stopped. The world was calm yet again. Ignoring his wounds, blood already racing down the cuts on his head, he reared his head over to where the pit had opened.

The corridor was dormant. It was as if the collapse had never happened.

Alistair had disappeared.

* * *

Calista was not precisely sure what she was doing was correct.

She poised herself next to the stone sink basins in the men's bathroom. Her arms crossed, she frowned at Warren who appeared more hostile by the second. In the middle was Callie. The poor and meek girl was practically shivering with anxiety as she swiped a gaze at the two Ravenclaws. They had been locked in a stare-down for a few minutes now, and neither seemed to break. Calista's baby blue eyes were narrowed in curiosity, almost the same look she gave an engrossing textbook. Warren had a stout look of anger as his fists clenched in the pockets of his robes.

Calista was unsure because she was threatening to reveal a very personal secret. She had no business doing such a thing. However, she found out that Warren had been threatening Robbie. For as dumb and conceited as Robbie was, he was still a student that was having the threat of violence over his and his sister's head. Sure, she was not trying to save Robbie per se, but that was a side effect for her next actions. She just wanted this hassle of treasure hunting to end. The talk was already grating on her head. If stopping a dangerous student from terrorizing others was accomplished, she had no reason to complain.

"Robbie didn't tell me," Calista broke through the silence first. "Neither did his sister. I figured it out on my own."

"And what do you care?"

"The Chamber. I want to go in it. And I know you speak Parseltongue as well."

Warren recoiled in surprise. "How di-."

"In Second Year," Calista said. "We were in Herbology and you were approached by a garden snake outside the greenhouse. And you began to talk to it. You probably did not realize it, but you were speaking its language. I was the only one there. Although that was the case for practically every Herbology class that year."

Warren, standing like a marble knight statue, let out a low growl. Calista had to take a small swallow to regain her composure.

"You're not blackmailing me."

"I don't have to," Calista said. "I'll just go to Prefects and tell them about how you are threatening Inter-House violence because someone was a Gryffindor."

Callie gasped and turned over to Warren. The werewolf boy sneered at Calista. "Him being Gryffindor has nothing to do with it."

"Who will they believe? Me and Robbie? Or you?"

Warren was beginning to get desperate. Either option was a bad one to him. Even if he did open up the Chamber, there were too many things that he did not want people to see at all hidden away inside its walls. It was as if somebody was prying his body open with a hacksaw and then picking apart at his organs. This was a question of whether he could live with giving a small piece of his person over to them, or was he going to sacrifice peace and quiet for the rest of his school days and possibly his life.

With a sigh, Warren grabbed his wand and flicked it towards Calista. "And why shouldn't I just Obliviate you?"

Callie took a step back, praying that the fray would not end in sparks of violence. She muttered a small incantation to herself. She recently learned the shield charm, so she felt small hexes and jinxes could be bounced away.

Underneath the shadow of the moonlight cast through the bay window behind her, Calista gave a twinge of a smirk. Callie gasped in surprise at the odd reaction. She knew that if Warren had threatened her, she would jump off a window to end her misery sooner.

"That would give me probable cause then," Calista said. She looked up at Warren, a deep sparkle of resolve in her eyes. "Probable cause to pummel you with every spell we've ever seen in our textbooks."

"Please, don't!" Callie cried out. "This won't he-."

 _"Obliviate,"_ Warren's deep voice blurted out.

Then, the woman's voice shouted out a spell at the same time. A spell that Callie knew was one that should not be used by any students. One that she thought was only cast by Dark Magicians and evil human beings. Calista flourished her wand and stretched out her arm like an archer spearing a wolf for slaughter.

 _"Imperio."_

With a smash, the two jets collided in mid-air, illuminating Caliie's face of horror as she shrieked.

* * *

Rusted chains clinked on the steel armrests.

With a groan, Alistair's eyes lifted open as his head swam from side-to-side like a pendulum. Disoriented, he gazed down at his wrists that were now bond by the metal wrapped around the chair. It was a wooden chair; an old one that reminded him of the chipped, unused ones in the cupboard. His back ached with the undeniable impact of his fall. Even his neck was sore, emanating with the droll pain of whiplash.

All he remembered was a quick crash. The floor collapsing. Rock piling down toward him as he began a descent into nothing.

With another grunt, he tried to lift himself up. His angles dug into another barrage of chains. They held him down to the legs. Alistair tried to kick them out and move the chair. His shirt and pants torn like he had trudged through a thick rainforest, he felt the sting of small cuts etched into his face and arms. At this point, he reared his head up from his chest and saw the room. It was a large room devoid of any other furniture. However, he realized he was at the summit of the room. Around him, stone steps walked up to the platform that he was seated.

Bright lanterns sizzled with fire on their hangers lining the pillars that surrounded the room. Their burning was the only sound other than Alistair struggling against the binds that held him down. The chair, bolted to the floor, shook with every heave Alistair tried to make out of the prison.

His breathing lurched faster like a rock tumbling down a hill. The realization of his problem bore onto him like a corkscrew digging into his skin. He was trapped inside the castle. He had no means to reach for his wand or any way to defend himself.

"Hey," Alistair cringed at how weak his voice sounded. "Hey."

He grunted again as he fought the chains even harder. All that did was add pressure to his skin, causing small tattoos of the chains to dig themselves into his wrists. What caused Alistair the most worry was simply the unknown. Did any of this had to do with the treasure? Did he fall into a trap? Was this a test of some kind?

Alistair gritted his teeth and gave one more heave.

His body tightened when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

A small piece of him wanted to look away, to not have anything to do with the being that clapped his shoulder. However, he knew he had to He trailed his eyes from the soft, alabaster hand up he bare arm towards the face of the his assailant.

His breath hitched when he saw a very strange, but oddly, enchanting face smirking down at him. It was the soft-boned face of a female. Specifically, she was a female with long, ebony black hair, for which how she received her name. In her hair, violet streaks with red tips cascaded to her mid-back. Alistair noted her eyes, not the calming brilliant blue Calista's held, but instead blue eyes like limpid tears. Based off her pale white skin and dark circles under her eyes, Alistair could tell she was a vampire. Roughly aged seventeen, she wore a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. She licked her lips and examined the boy, her black lipstick shining in the light of the raging flames.

"Hello, prep," the voice purred.

Alistair gulped in fear.

* * *

 _"Impedimenta!"_

 _"Relashio!"_

 _"Reducto!"_

 _"Diffindo!"_

 _"Stupefy!"_

Callie cowered under the broken plastic of the bathroom stall. She shivered and let out a soft whimper while trying to peer out at the scene. A final explosion of ruby red erupted in the center of the room. Finally, the light dissipated, and what remained was the remnants of a very difficult duel.

The bathroom was in complete disarray. Pieces of stone and marble were strewn around like silly putty with trailing dust coating the chipped ivory tiled floor. A pipe running up the wall next to her spewed out water, the hydraulic hiss seethed out with the fumigation of smoke that rose up through the space. It made it hard for Callie to see through the bathroom. The moonlight outside refracted off the smoke and created a graphite haze that enveloped the entire room. Some tiolets jetted out water as well turning into makeshift fountains. The statues on the center stone basin of angels and past wizards were completely disfigured. Only the chipped glass of broken sinks remained recognizable in the stone.

She heard two sets of gasps from underneath her shelter. Lifting up her shield, she spied the two figures huffing in exhaustion in front of each other. Their wands still raised, poised for attack, Warren glared at Calista with an anger palpable to a man who lost his mind. He licked a bead of sweat that rolled down his face and unto his chapped lips. His hair was pointed as if doused in hair gel, glistening with sweat and poked with dots of grey dust and specks of glass.

Calista had a similar look. However, a long, thin cut ran down her cheek towards her jaw. The braid to her side was almost undone; tufts of her hair were frazzled from the fight. Not to mention, both of their robes were polluted with grime and remnants of exploded stone.

In the standoff, they tried to catch their breaths as if the air was a snitch that escaped from their reach.

"What," Calista struggled. "What do...you have...to hide?"

"My secret." Warren breathed back.

"I won't...tell about you being a werewolf," Calista said. "If you let us in the Chamber."

Warren narrowed his eyes in rage. "That's not my only secret."

Warren's hand shook as he thrusted out his wand towards her again. This time, the golden jet connected with Calista's wand and flung it away. OVer towards the farthest corner of the room, Callie watched the wand clatter over the debris on the floor. It skittered across and rolled to a stop just inches from her face. She looked back up at Calista, now defenseless and vulnerable.

Calista had to admit that she did feel concerned. However, logic infected her mind and she held up her palms to calm Warren down. He would not attack a defenseless student. At least, he could not do it with Callie as witness. Worse he would do was erase her memory of the battle if he was truly capable of such magic.

Warren stumbled forward. His leg was slightly bent and twisted in an awkward fashion. Calista wondered if he had fallen on it incorrectly during the duel. He hobbled closer as the wand's tip spurted out small flicks of magic.

"I have one more secret. It's what I've been looking for. What my family has been looking for since he took it away. My birthright. What belongs to me."

Calista kept her composure as the wand drew nearer. "Who took it away?"

"And it's in this castle!" Warren roared, his teeth gnashing as spit flew out of his mouth like a gushing madman. Callie covered her face with her dust-ridden hands in an effort to protect herself.

"What i-."

"They put it here," Warren shouted. "Knowing it was mine! And their dangling it in front of me like a piece of meat! Like I'm an animal!"

Warren stopped his movement. The wand was inches from Calista's face. She almost went cross-eyed as the tip split her view of Warren's face. With a flick of her eyes, she spotted Callie over in the corner. Eyes enlarged, she motioned with her eyes towards Warren and hoped Callie had gotten the message.

Callie shook her head. There was nothing she could do to stop the sixth year even if she wanted to do that. However, a small piece of her did not want to intervene because she hated the sight of Warren in pain more than Calista being victorious. Maybe neither were in the right. There was a strange connection she felt with Warren even before they had touched a few nights before. It had grown from her simple curiosity of him as a possible werewolf, something she had never encountered before. Yet, she had a deep feeling of pity and...empathy towards him? Regardless, it was enough to stop her from helping Calista.

But Calista had helped her as well. She stopped her bullying on the train. She talked to her and shared her views on the wizarding world. Strong views, but that made her special. And beyond that, she was trying to stop Warren from doing something dangerous and threatening another student.

There was no good or bad guy in this instance, Callie thought to herself as she stood up. The stall clattered away as she reached full height. A tight expression of resolve formed on her face, replacing the anxiety and fear from before. She was tired of hiding in the corner and watching two people that she may actually like be locked in a pointless battle.

"Warren."

Both Warren and Calista looked over to her. Warren's face changed into one of surprise as the tip of his wand cackled. Now, Warren was not somebody that was easily shaken or surprised by anything. Yes, finding Robbie and Cas in the Chamber was a wrinkle in his plans, but he knew those were event he could easily work around. He was a stout man from the looming presence he had over the halls to the flat expression his face held, he rarely displayed a flicker his eyebrows or a twitch of his mouth to surrender any emotion. Showcasing feelings was for weak people, and him being weak would reap no reward.

Warren, despite this, decided this one instance of outlandish surprise was warranted. At least, it was once he heard Callie, that angelic-looking shy girl standing taller than ever in the corner of the men's bathroom.

"Put down the fucking wand!" Callie shouted.

* * *

 **More stuff happened! What does it all mean?**

 **Thank you so much for reading this! I took a little more time to get my bearings, so please let me know if it worked out. Reviews are extremely important to me, and they give me the drive and motivation to bring these updates out faster! So please comment anything you want!**

 **So are we any closer to getting this thing? What happened to Alistair? Who is that person that is holding him hostage? I bet you could figure it out based off her appearance. Many say she looks like Amy Lee (and if you don't know who that is, GTFO!) and you may not like who it is. But what will happen with the whole bathroom fight? Who is in the right? Were you surprised by Callie?**

 **So please let me know what you think!**

 **Thank you. See you soon!**


	14. An Al-arm-ing Situation

"Don't chew on my quill, Azathoth."

Edmund stood straight as an iron board in his immaculate robes by the crackling flames of the fireplace. He cradled a worn pulp novel in his arms with a day-glo orange cover. He stared down at the fluffy coal black cat that purred next to the scarlet couch. The cat dropped the chewed end of the feather as if it had been caught in an act of thievery. Edmund rubbed his forehead in exasperation as he strode to the sofa.

Reaching down, he ran his hands through the thick bristles of Azathoth's fur. The sensitive hair folded underneath his fingers as the cat melted into the stroke. With a loud purr, Azathoth sunk down into the plush cushions of the sofa. Edmund could not help the small smile while lowering himself to the soft surface. He sat next to the cat and looked back down at the cover of his book. His father's name etched into the cover, he thumbed the laminated front cover as if he were savoring a nice meal.

The crackle of the fireplace popped in the empty Gryffindor Common Room. Edmund gave himself a second to relax in the cozy confines while rubbing his cat's chubby build. He shuffled his robes underneath his seat to ensure no hairs would get tangled up

"Ed!"

Edmund looked over towards the source of the shout. Standing in a poised manner, Edmund examined the flustered by gasping for air. Aisen rested and hunched over himself. His hair was a mess (although Edmund expected that most days). His face was flushed with a deep tint that matched the walls of the Gryffindor common room. His chest heaving, Aisen shook as if a magical battle rumbled underneath his feet.

"Do you know what time it is?" Edmund chastised. "I won't cover for you anymore."

"Alistair is gone!"

Edmund shot up to his feet like he was on fire. "Where?" Edmund said.

"I don't know. We were trying to find the treasure and I had a dream it was in the dungeons but I think the dream was a lie or trick to get us and then h-."

"Slow down," Edmund chided. "What dream? Why were you in the dungeons this late? What did you do with Alistair?"

"The treasure," Aisen cried out. "We thought it was there, but things started collapsing all around and I was gonna fall but he yanked me out of the way and he fell in because of me."

Edmund crossed his arms and tilted up his head. A small pang of dread flooded his stomach.

To be honest, Edmund had never held a high regard to most people in the castle, but Alistair was supposed to be on the lower end of the spectrum for him. He was just another arrogant Hogwarts student who felt the world was owed to him. There was absolutely no reason for Edmund to feel anything for him.

And yet, Edmund could not stop spying on him from afar. He did not remember when the attraction started, but around early fifth year, he felt a small tingling run down his uncurled spine whenever he spotted the blonde roaming around the hallways. He was a crass, uncultured individual that should have been a complete turn off for the prim and proper Pureblood. However, he could not stop thinking about him and his gentle eyes and well-structured face. There was a flair and charisma he was blessed with that Edmund could not help feel jealous.

Edmund dropped his book and narrowed his eyes in resolve. "Aisen, we can't break curfew and hurt Gryffindor. Alistair can take care of himself."

"No, he can't," Aisen cried. "And you know you want to help."

"Get a professor!" Edmund shouted. "I'm not going to be apart of this dumb game any longer."

Aisen clenched his fists. "Fine. I'll get help myself."

As Aisen turned around, Edmund panicked and raced towards him. Yes, Alistair was important, but he would rather not have himself and others thrown into further danger.

He reached out and snatched Aisen's wrist.

* * *

Alistair had no idea what a prep was. Or a poser, which is another thing this strange girl had called him. There was an eerie, placid tone to her voice almost akin to a sultry whisper or purr that flowed out of her lips. The girl looked insane with her gothic style muggle dresswear and continued recitation about how she thought a man named Gerard Way was very hot. However, there was an odd attraction that made Alistair feel that, with less foundation and less charcoal eye shadow, everyone on Planet Earth could find her attractive.

Alistair, despite his adventurous attitude towards relationships, was certainly not into whatever this girl was. He thrusted his wrists up into the chains for the millionth time only to feel the cold metal wear away at the outer layer of his skin again and again. The rusted steel rubbed and agitated him with every struggle to get out of his imprisonment. The uncomfortable ebony wooden chair, worn with years of tarnish and misuse, shook on its hinges as Alistair tried to fight the wrappings and the odd stench of fresh blood and dollar store perfume that battered his sinuses. His legs were sore from catching himself on the floor after the collapse. He was also sure that his bruised tailbone was digging further into his spine causing a harsh pain to sting him like a pinprick with every adjustment to his body.

"You don't look so good, Ali," Ebony said with a smirk as she ran her hands around Alistair's neck. Her dead touch transmitted cold shivers over him; gooseflesh trailing on his skin after her stroke.

However, Alistair notes a second pulse beating in his chest. It gave off a warm glow that massaged and beated like another heart. Maybe it was his imagination.

"I just wanted to see the treasure," Alistair croaked. "I think I broke some bones. I need help."

Ebony ticked and shook her head like a disappointed mother. She sashayed around to Alistair's front, facing him and peering in closer to the point where their noses were almost touching.

"You just got here, Ali," Ebony whispered. "We can't stop our fun now."

"It's not fun if it's only one person," Alistair groaned out.

Ebony giggled and trailed her hand over the tattered shirt Alistair wore. Making sure to press into his squirming form, Ebony lowered herself to her knees directly in front of the chair between Alistair's twitching legs. Her hands rested on his knees and pried them towards the side.

"You probably don't understand yet," Ebony said. "Why I'm here."

"Just let me go." Alistair said. "And what are you doing?"

"You should know," Ebony looked up at him with narrowed, hooded scarlet eyes that sparkled with anticipation. "What do most girls do when they are in this position with you? You see, you're a personification, Ali. A personification of lust. One of the deadly sins that curse this object. What you are looking for."

Alistair's eyes widened and he forced himself still. He was both confused and fi ghtened at what this girl was talking about. Regardless, he had a feeling that she was not a person. At least, not a Hogwarts student of this time as she caressed his inner thigh. A lump clogged his throat with every stroke of Ebony's icy fingers.

"This treasure you're looking for. I've been looking for it, too. But I can't touch it. I need to possess a very special person to get my hands on it. There is magic that protects it, so I need you to get it for me."

Alistair yelped as Ebony's hands clasped onto a very sensitive part of his body. Ebony let out a mirthless chuckle and looked straight up into Alistair's eyes.

"You're the sin of lust, Alistair Leonhardt. And because of that, I can possess you."

Alistair groaned out as Ebony reached for the zipper on his pants. His mind raced with the pain that thumped inside him while this crazy girl assaulted him. Why was he being chosen for this? Who was doing the choosing? Did the treasure pick him for some reason?

"I bet I could please you beyond your wildest dreams," Ebony purred with a lustful gaze towards Alistair. "I could suck your soul from your cock. And then you can jam it into my you-know-what."

Alistair thrashed his head around. "No, I don't know. And I don't want to!"

"Yes you do," Ebony shot back at him. "And you can give in to it. Embody it. And then we can get the treasure and I can return to my beloved Draco and steal him back from that prep bitch Hillary fucking Duff."

Alistair's breath hitched. That name sounded very familiar to him. But he could not concentrate on that as a strange vampire goth chick was trying to possess him at random.

The thumping by his heart grew harder. Alistair leered down and noticed a small ruby light blinking like a lighthouse and obscured by his shirt. The necklace around his neck almost appeared to be breathing.

He had never been good in tense magical situations like this. In fact, he secretly hoped he would never be involved in one. Of the situation arose, he knew hardly a spell that could break him out.

Wait, his wand!

As if she had read his mind, Ebony pulled out his wand from her back pocket and waved it in front of him. Then, she deposited it towards the side.

"This is you're last chance, Alistair," Ebony said as her lips drew nearer. "We can do this the hard way or the hard-but-painful way."

Alistair swallowed and licked his parched lips. He shook the chains again and tried to shimmy his shoulders out from the braces. "I don't. I'm not a sin. I'm Alistair."

Ebony snapped back up to her feet. Her eyes fueled with anger, she rested a fist back and flung it towards Alistair. The punch whiplashed his neck, and he grunted out in pain. His chin rested on his bruised chest as he thrashed around like a fish out of water.

"Stupid. Can't even admit your own sin. Typical Slytherin," Ebony spat out. She reached behind Alistair and grabbed. A chain from behind her. With a snap, she wrapped it around his throat and choked him.

Alistair's throat enclosed on itself. He tried to force air, but the flow of oxygen was cut off like a dead chickens head. He gargled out. His lungs began to burn after a few seconds of struggle. It felt like boiling bubbles popped.

A few more seconds of struggle.

Black ridges began to form at the corners of his vision.

They enveloped the rest of the chamber in front of him. He was close.

Ebony laughed as his face curdled from red to indigo. However, she decided she was bored and let go of the chain. The metal left a mad indentation on Alistair's neck. He slumped over and did all he could to breathe.

"If only I had a gun or Crookshanks that I could use to torture you more," Ebony said. She trailed a finger down Alistair's limp form and reached in her pocket.

The Slytherin was panicking more than he had before in his life. Why was he being punished so badly? Fine, maybe he was not perfect, but nobody was. Why did he have to take the downfall for it? How did he get out of here? Didn't Albus Dumbledore have a famous quote about help coming to those in need? Where was it for him?

The crystal pulsed harder.

Alistair's eyes widened as the flint of a knife shined underneath the tungsten lantern light. His breathing accelerated like a snowball rolling down a hills around Hogsmeade around the Christmas holiday.

Ebony drew up to Alistair and pressed the knife towards his throat. "Now, the alchemy I need to get my beloved Draco back and banish that prep Bloody Mary Granger our of existence requires a sacrifice from who I'll be possessing. Now, I could be nice and just take a drop of your blood. But I might lose control and have an early dinner," Ebony's straight ivory teeth gleamed with hunger.

Then, Ebony prodded the knife into Alistair's groin region. He helped out in shock again. "Or, I could be extra cruel and cut this off. You wouldn't have much left to please anyone, let alone yourself."

Finally, Ebony smirked and took the small sword over to the ridge between Alistair's shoulder blade and arm. She pressed down on it, the awkward angle jutting the sword into his skin. Beads of blood morphed out from his shirt and grew a dark stain.

"I think this would be punishment enough. Possessing you. Giving me the ring, restoring order to this Alternate Universe, and then taking your arm!"

"No, please," Alistair begged. "I'm changing! I won't be like who I was."

"Sorry, Ali," Ebony said as she raised up the sword. "I don't care if you become a better character. I just need that ring."

"No, stop," Alistair shouted as he rocked in the chair harder than ever. "I'm begging you! Don't do this! Please do-."

The sword slashed down onto his arm. The appendage dropped from his body.

Just as Alistair began to feel the beginning throes of pain, genuine, blinding pain that made his vision explode into shards of white, the pulsing of the crystal stopped. Blood spewing from his shoulder, he cried out louder than he thought his voice could fathom. Excruciating pain. It clamped down on him and squeezed harder and harder.

More yelling. He cried out louder.

Ebony laughed and gathered up his arm, ready to use it How she saw fit.

Then, the crystal emanated a soft hum, not unlike that of a wand charging up for the most advanced shield charm. The ruby glowed brighter and brighter. Alistair closed his eyes, feeling that whatever happened next, it would be the last thing he would see.

What he saw next was the pink explosion that enveloped the entire room.

The crystal exploded.

* * *

Callie snatched Warren's wand from his hand.

"You both need to stop," Callie shouted but in a more quiet way than the normal volume for shouting. "This fighting is getting nowhere."

Drilping his wand, it clattered on the wet floor as Callie pointed over at Calista. "You should know better than to cast an Unforgivabel."

"it's for the greater good!" Calista said with a. Tight frown on her face. "Warren is trying to conc-"

"What he's hiding is none of your business," Callie said. Then, she turned over to Warren.

"And you," Callie jabbed a finger at Warren's taut chest. "Why are you so rude to everyone. People might actually like you if you didn't look so angry all the time. I don't care that you're a werewolf, but I do care that you almost killed like five people in the past two days."

Warren seemed genuinely shocked for the first time in a while. His mouth agape, he hung his arms limp at his side as his shoulders rose up in embarrassment.

Callie sighed and bit her fingernails. "Look, if Warren was really hiding something, the hunt is over. But Warren, you said you were looking for it, too. Right?"

Just as Warren began to speak, both him and Callie stopped. An uneasy feeling of anxiety rose onto their faces. Calista flung her gaze back and forth between them trying to figure out what's wrong.

A strange sensation flowed through them. However, it was not the warmth that enveloped them previous. Instead, a chilling zap of fear and alarm shot through their veins. Callie felt her arms turn into spaghetti as she struggled to stay on her feet. A knife of pain jabbed through their heads like Hagrid's axe drilled into the base of a tree outside on the castle grounds.

It was brief, but the sensation stopped and flung them to the floor. Both Callie and Warren collapsed onto their arms and legs. Water splattered around their forms as they lassoed precious air into their lungs.

"What," Callie heaved. "What...was that?"

Warren looked back up to her. Calista was in complete confusion. However, she noticed a full, blank expression in both of their eyes. It was as if somebody had used the curse she attempted on Warren earlier.

"I know where to go," Warren said as he looked over at Callie.

"I do, too." Callie said.

"My ring," Warren said. "It's awoken."

And awoken it had.

In the Gryffindor Common room, Edmund let go of a struggling Aisen. As if robots taken control of by a remote, they both dropped everything and marched out towards the dungeon.

Attempting to curl her own hair, Lacie was in her purple pajamas when she dropped the brush in her soft hand. Without any warning, she pivoted like a ballerina and paved towards the dungeon as well.

Painting on a small, makeshift easel, Laila Varnes dropped the brush onto the floor. A few Hufflepuff students stared at her in annoyance of getting paint on the mahogany wood. Her eyes glazed over, she paused her activities and headed towards the exits. A few Hufflepuffs shouted to stop her lest she break curfew, but she exited in a flash towards the dungeons.

Within a few minutes, these characters along with Warren and Callie would converge on one location where Alistair was in the dungeons. Their one goal now clear in their minds. Their mission was to protect the treasure and each other.


	15. My Not So Immortal

Beatrice paused at the rumbling of feet pounding outside of the common room entrance.

The tapping crescendoed into a hard thunk that raced past the stone walls masking their identities before fading away into silence. She gazed up at the ceiling, wondering if that was a person and if so where they were going. Without any other clues, she decided it was no big deal and shrugged to herself. Beatrice looked back down at her chamomile tea and mixed it with her tiny silver spoon. The currents created small divets in the cocoa surface that swirled around like a small twister that refracted the dim candle light that kept the common room visible.

Still in her robes from the day, she slurped on the warm tea, smacking her lips to soothe the small burn that her tongue received.

More footsteps. This time in faster succession as they barreled past the entrance.

"Can't I get any sleep around here?" Julian said as he lay on the forest green satin couch next to the smoldering ash of an extinguished fireplace. He rubbed his eyes and glared at the doorway to the hallway.

Beatrice waited a few seconds again. The footsteps faded.

Then, more thunks pattered from the hallway.

"I'm telling them to shut it," Julian said as he hopped off the couch. He jogged past Beatrice and approached the doorway. The day had not been to kind to Julian. Some Third Years had tried to mess with him by making fun of him and his short stature. Just as he was about to jinx them into oblivion, Professor Tommy just had to catch him in the act and decided to take points away from Slytherin. On top of that, he had yet another argument with that annoying Rusty kid in potions. Even his Charms class had dumped three scrolls of homework to be completed over the weekend. It had only been around a week since they had returned, and Hogwarts already felt like a year.

Julian pushed on the heavy oak and heaved it open, but then leaped back.

Another body bolted down the hallway. Following with his sight, he saw the flicker of black robes with an orange trim flutter away. A head of bright, almost snow hair bounding along with it before rounding a corner.

"The hell," Julian said. "That was that Hufflepuff girl."

Beatrice stepped over to the doorway and leered over Julian's shoulder. Just as she poked her head, a gush of wind breezed past her. They both stepped back, startled as yet another student ran past them.

"And that was that kid Alistair talked about earlier," Beatrice said.

"Where is that moron, anyway?" Julian asked. "He's been gone since at least dinner."

Beatrice frowned and rubbed her chin. She had forgotten just how fast time went by in the castle. True, Alistair had been a no show through their late meal and seemed to have disappeared without a trace. For as annoying as he could be, she had to admit that her hormonal friend was essential to her Quidditch success. Especially if she was going to convince him that she should be Seeker this year.

Looking down at Julian, she felt a small twinge of guilt pluck in her chest. Julian did not have many friends, and maybe it was a tad weird that she considered a second year a good friend. However, she knew Julian had to be a little worried. He was a clingy person believe it or not, and going without seeing either of them for sometime left him crankier than usual.

"I bet that guy is going to see him. Wanna break curfew?" Beatrice asked.

"Whatever," Julian growled. "But if we're caught, it's your fault."

They slipped around the corner of the door and began to trot down the hallway. The familiar corridors were still as dark and damp as usual. Beatrice held herself upright, the sporty girl having no trouble traversing the cobblestone path. Julian, however, began huffing almost immediately and struggled to straggle in order to stay at Beatrice's side. Within seconds, the had approached the end of the dungeon corridor. However, they paused at the tow paths.

One door was Professor Tommy's new abode. The door on the opposite side, one they had never seen before, was flung open and revealed a deep darkness that lead to the unknown. They peered into the void hoping to see some form of life. Beatrice was not even sure if this was the path the other students had gone down.

"Hey, you."

Beatrice and Julian snapped around and breathed out a sigh at the person.

Calista had her wand drawn already with the tip of her wand ignited for light. She huffed to catch her breath like she had run a marathon.

"Oh, hey," Beatrice waved. "You're that girl Alistair keeps talking about."

"And you're the two racists," Calista added with mirth.

"Don't you mean housist?" Julian said in a deadpan voice.

Calista shook her head. "Whatever. Look, I need to get in there because a whole bunch of people are there and I think they're about to find something really dangerous so I have to destroy it. Also, I think one of them might be evil," she explained with the speed of a flying hippogryff.

"That sucks," Beatrice said. She scratched the tip of her nose with her wand. "But your future boyfriend is probably in there, too. And I'd hate to lose our Quidditch captain to whatever this is."

Calista stammered as her face reddened in a slight blush. "Don't say things like that! And I'm here to save the whole school. So get outta my w-."

"What's going on here?"

Calista groaned as she whipped around on her heels. A tall, well-built Gryffindor stood in a tight white t-shirt and brown jeans. He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead and swallowed to quench his dry throat.

"Is this like a secret club?" Robbie asked while gesturing at the group. "Where's my sister?"

"Huh?" Beatrice asked with a perplexed face. "You have a sister?"

Robbie ignored her and glared at Calista. He pointed a long finger towards her. "Someone told me my sister is in whatever is in that hallway. You have something to do with this."

"You're guess is as good as mine," Calista said. "I'm assuming it has to do with the treasure. It's connected people's souls and has drawn them in that hallway. I don't know if there possessed or what."

Robbie's eye twitched. "My sister is not going to be possessed on my watch. Outta my way," He said.

With a flourish of his wand, he held it steady in his hand while brushing past Calista. He slipped between Beatrice and Julian, who was giving Robbie a nasty glare. However, he stopped at the edge of the darkness. Robbie still had not quite recovered from the events of the previous day. being intimidated was not something he was used to, and he was worried that this was over his head. For as great a wizard and athlete and general human being he knew he was, he found living up to the "King of Gryffidor" name was becoming too hard.

Gulping, he put on a brave face and propped his head upward. This was not just for Gryffindor. Not just for the treasure. This was for Lacie. And if Leonhardt happened to be in there as well, all the better to annihilate him from Earth for roping his sister into this mess.

He took a step forward and his silhouette disappeared like a ghost evaporating into mist.

Beatrice and Julian looked at each other. How overdramatic could you get?

Then, Calista cleared her throat. "I think we should follow him. I doubt he can handle this himself."

* * *

Alistair had the heady feeling of apathy encroaching on his mind.

He had no idea what exactly that meant, but it described his mood perfectly as he levitated in nothingness. Coming to, he moaned before lifting open his eyes. The grey swirl before him wrapped him up like a wool blanket. He rocked up and down, but there was nothing to be seen. No walls, no floors, no noticable structures in this strange void that he was imprisoned. But maybe he was not imprisoned. The void felt good. He had a warm, numb feeling that protected his brain from any pain stinging his body.

He could not even think of anything. Everything in his mind and outside his body was blank. There was no pain or comfort save for the ringing in his ears. He was trapped in a permanent daze, and he could not care less. He felt his soul fading away in a sense, disappearing from the pain and hurt of reality and sheltering himself into the strange cocoon that shielded him from any assailants.

Then, his senses began to work again. He heard a small muffling noise. It was a whisper, but he could not make it out. His heart let out soothing thumps in his chest as it reverberated in his earlobes.

Another whisper. This time a little louder.

His heart thumped faster. Alistair realized he was getting a little frightened at whatever was coming his way.

Now, it was talking at normal volume. But he still could not fathom the English language. It was like Arithmancy to him, and his limbs still felt like strand of penne pasta that were mushed into uselessness.

"Oi! Idiot. Snap out of it."

Slap!

Alistair let out a loud cry as he collapsed to the now solid floor. He flipped himself over and scrambled to his feet. In a pathetic scene, he raised up his fists, already noticing that his wand was missing. What Alistair first noticed was his left arm was flesh, fully intact from the last event he remembered. He still felt the sting and pain pulsing in the arm like an internal bruise. But his arm was there.

The second thing he noticed was the girl imposed in front of him covering a small portion of the graphite world around them.

She was a pale girl. Somewhat shorter than him, her ice blue eyes were also pale and unfeeling. Her face, an eternal apathetic frown pasted on it and not betraying a single flicker of emotion, was unmoved by Alistair's actions as she stood there with her arms crossed. Her blonde hair was tucked up in a messy bun, and she stood pin straight in a strange tan outfit. It had a crop top jacket with a beige undershirt. An ornate number of straps and belts were wrapped around her like a snake smothering its prey.

Alistair tried to get his vocal chords to work, but he found the stress was still to tough on them. He coughed out guttural sounds and doubled over in a dull pain that fermented in his stomach.

"You better?" She asked in a flat tone.

Alistair stood back up and considered the girl who appeared about his age. His head began to race with questions and some upsetting assumptions. Did that horrible girl kill him? Was this the afterlife? He had expected much better. Was he in hell then? Was this all that it was? Just a void with nothingness for all of eternity. He did not even get to say goodbye to his family or anybody else. The need for knowledge flowed through him like a dark river storming over a waterfall. It filled him up and made him impatient with anxiety as his limbs tensed up.

"Where am I?"

"Physically?" The girl asked in rhetorical. "That dumb castle. Soul wise? You're in the crystal."

"The crystal?" Alistair asked in a loud tone. "The thing around my neck?"

"Did your parents tell you the story? Don't tell me I have to explain everything." She said with an eye roll.

Alistair took a cautious step forward. His arms were still placed protectively in front of his person. A small twinge of dread planted itself in his head as he looked around and saw nothing yet again. "Look, I've had a rough day. Could you please tell me what's happening? Who are you? Am I dead? I don't want to be dead!"

"Oh my god, calm down," She said. "You're not dead. And I'm why."

Alistair blinked. "Uh...thanks."

She sighed and blew out a deep breath. "Not the most eloquent one I've ever had." She took a step back and sat down on an invisible platform. Alistair grunted when he saw her sit down; it looked as if she was levitating herself with magic. Crossing her legs, she motioned for Alistair to take a seat as well. Alistair, with the hesitance of a novice pickpocket stealing from a rich goblin, lowered himself down into a crouched position. As low as he could go, he reared himself back.

And promptly fell flat on his back.

The girl snorted. "That never fails."

Alistair sat up and crossed his legs like a toddler in his first class of the school day. "Who are you? Where am I?"

The girl tucked a strand of her hair behind her small ears. "So the crystal that has been passed down the Leonhardt line. That crystal is used to protect the Leonhardt that wears it."

"Huh?" Alistair squeaked. "So all that talk about wearing it when doing something stupid?"

"True," She said. "The crystal is there to protect you. When it detects that you are close to death, it has magical properties that will keep you alive and safe."

Alistair stared at the girl from his seated position on the floor. "And those magical properties are?"

"Me," she stated. "My name is Annie. Annie Leonhart," she said. Alistair's eyes widened at the recognition of his last name. "And I have been cursed to be inside this crystal for all of eternity. Or for however long the Leonhardt line lives. So maybe another couple of years at this rate."

Alistair shook his head. "Wait. You're a witch? And you've been inside this crystal all along? Like a genie?"

"If that's how you wanna put it," Annie said with another eye roll. "I'm actually not of this universe. I come from what you know now as Germany, but it was in a different world where we all lived inside these big walls that protected us."

"So like America?"

Annie snorted. "The walls protected us from these giant things called Titans that attacked us on a regular basis."

Alistair tilted his head in confusion. "Like trolls?"

"Generally," she said. "But I did something...really bad. And someone more powerful than me took me down," Annie said with a faraway look in her eye as if she were remembering some painful memory. "But I protected myself when I got caught." She then gave out another deep sigh. "But unfortunately, when I turned into a crystal, some wizard from your world came and transformed me into a different kind of crystal. The kind that entraps powerful witches or wizards in it to do the wielder's biding."

"So you're from another universe?" Alistair asked. " there are other universes? That's insane! How did that even happen?"

Annie shrugged. "I've tried to figure that out for a while now. My best guess is that Mister Andretti found an opportunity for a lazy crossover reference when he noticed our last names were the same and decided to mash something trendy and popular into the story."

Alistair was perplexed. He leered at the strange girl and looked around in hopes that a joke was being played on him. "Story? Who is Mister Andretti?"

"Never mind," Annie said. "But I am a Leonhardt from that Universe. Although your last name is spelled wrong."

"What? That's my last name," Alistair complained. "It can't be misspelled!"

"Leonhardt is spelled without the 'd,'" Annie said. "But that's not important right now. The point is that you are in danger, and you were about to die. So now, I'm going to help. In a few seconds, you'll regain consciousness. I will be with you. Not possessing you, but kind of being a co-pilot. Apparently, I'm a really powerful witch, and I know based on your last Charms exam grade, you are not."

"Hey," Alistair pointed at Annie. "That was just a pretest. To check what we remembered from last year!"

"The point," Annie interrupted. "Is that I have been cursed to protect the Leonhardt with the crystal. And your soul has been chosen along with some others to have an...eventful year. I'm sure your Headmaster lady will explain it to you better than I can. So we will take down this evil spirit together, adn then I will disappear in the crystal until your life is at stake again."

"That sounds great," Alistair said. "But my life was sort of in danger before my arm got cut off."

Annie looked to the side. "Yeah, sorry about that," Annie said. "I don't get to decide when to come out. I'm a last resort."

"Well, Annie," Alistair grunted while rising to his feet. "I'm going to tell you that all of this is really weird and I don't believe it's actually happening to me. But I do know that my arm is very much gone. I'd like to have it back or stop the asshole that decided to take it. Plus, I think that Ebony chick is trying to get this weird ring that might give her the power to...I'm not really sure. Kill everyone? Or just Hillary Duff? You know who that is?"

"Can you just wake up already? We're running out of time."

Alistair flashed a toothy smile before scratching the back of his neck. His eyes flickered with resolve as he cleared his throat. He trusted the blunt girl enough to know that this person trapped in that crystal was here to help him. As long as he was not dead, he could return to Hogwarts and the real world. Yes, he still had many questions, but his purpose for this one moment was quite clear.

"I guess all I can say is that, I have no idea who you are," Alistair said as he bucked up with confidence. "But let me ask you; are you ready to kick some gothic vampire witch's ass with me?"

Annie rolled her eyes. "God, you're so corny. No wonder that Calista girl likes you."

Alistair's face lit up. "Wait. You know if Calista likes me?"

"Okay, time to go."

* * *

Ebony caught her breath as thin smoke pillowed around the room. With a lick of her chapped and black painted lips, she rose up from the floor and brushed off the dust that coated her crazy ensemble she thought was good fashion. Flicking her midnight hair, Ebony approached Alistair's slumped figure in the chair, still armless. By the base of the wooden chair, the blood-coated remains of his arm sat on the floor. Seeing that he was unconscious, she breathed out a sigh of relief. The blowback of that random explosion made her weary, but it appeared those were all the secrets she would have to encounter.

She remembered that she had a job to do. To get the ring, she still needed to gather up Alistair's detached arm and mix it into what was needed. With a snap of her fingers, a boiling, rusted cauldron popped into existence behind her on the floor. It was the means to mix together the incantation needed for her ritual to be complete. The dust settled down onto the ground as Ebony flashed a small smirk at Alistair's lifeless body.

"Pain does things to people," Ebony said as she loomed down at Alistair. "Some people writhe around in pain. Some respond in anger. And then there's weak people like you. Fucking posers that just pass out to avoid the pain."

What surprised Ebony was just how sudden the response was from Alistair.

A small laugh shook from Alistair as he remained slumped over. Alistair's face pointed downward, Ebony's smile faded away as the laugh grew louder and shook the boy's frame with every breath. His teeth gnashed and clenched, his mouth opened wider and croaked out even more mirthless laughter. The time that passed between the random laughter inched by like the floating ambers of the cauldron fire vanishing in the thick air.

"You think pain will stop us?" Alistair said while raising up his head in a slow manner. "You haven't realized just how resolute you have to be. To take us down."

When his gaze locked onto Ebony's, she gasped. Alistair had what could only be described as an evil, unhinged grin that bared his teeth. Bruised and with a few thin cuts lined down his face, he appeared to be a man that had lost all his sensibilities. However, it was his eyes that gave Ebony pause. The normal vibrant green shined even brighter than before. So much so, the green flashed beyond his irises like a flashlight that was just switched on. The glow of the emerald gave him a truly domineering appearance as he leaned forward.

With a short grunt, Alistair broke the chains on his wrists. Then, he snapped his ankles forward, the metal from the chain scattering across the marble floor. With a ginger step, Alistair stood up and regained his balance.

He tilted his head and licked his lips at Ebony, the dark smirk still painted on his face. "You think you are the one that is going to find the ring. The one that will bring deliverance to whatever you are seeking. You are a pathetic and pointless human in every shape and form. And I plan on enjoying every second of your tortuous death."

Ebony guffawed in shock while stepping back from the sudden power move.

 _Wow_ , Alistair thought to himself. _That was a really wordy thing I just said. I just wanted to tell her to fuck off._

 _I've found being verbose scares people_ , Annie thought back in their shared brain telepathy.

 _No wonder people don't like most Ravenclaws. That's how they normally talk._

 _Focus, Alistair. Now get your wand._

Alistair snapped out his hand towards his wand, which was buried underneath a heap of broken glass and marble. It shot out of the pile and zoomed like a snitch towards his hand. He grabbed it with the precision of an archer and flicked it at Ebony. Her ajar mouth let out a quick, deafening shriek. A jet of viridescent power slammed into her and plowed her backwards. She slammed on the floor on her back and skid over the debris-dotted marble. Digging her shoes into the ground, Ebony halted herself just in front of the cauldron.

Alistair roped out another spell without a word. This time, Ebony waved her hand and brushed it towards the side. It collided with a pillar and carved a crater into the stone.

Ebony rose back up to her feet and glared at Alistair, his wild grin still deep and assured.

With a roar, Ebony flashed a curse over towards Alistair, this one ruby. He flicked it away like an annoying house fly. Then, he lashed out another attack and jumped out fo the way of a quick succession of curses. Ebony yelled out as she waved her hands and the spells flew towards Alistair. Seeing the wall of hexes and painful magic coming his way, he leaped to his left and avoided one. Then, a quick duck with a leek green jet spiraling overhead. With another funnel coming his way, he dived forwards and barrel-rolled himself underneath the spell.

Another spell. This time two of them. One was located at his position on the ground. Another was higher up. If he stood, and jumped, he would be hit either way.

Alistair bounded back upwards and twirled in the air parralel to the floor. Landing on his heels, he spun around back to face Ebony.

Popping back up to his proper dueling stance, he pointed his wand up at the ceiling. Alistair thrusted it down, and along with it came a calamitous chunk of the stone ceiling collapsing down right where Ebony was standing. As fast as a lightening bolt, it crashed to the ground and crushed the girl underneath it.

 _Merlin, that was awesome_ , Alistair thought. _I was like one of those muggle warriors from Japan that Aisen keeps talking about! I didn't even know I could do all of that!_

 _You can't,_ Annie responded. _But enjoy it while it lasts._

Alistair took a few cautious steps forward. He approached the mountain of debris covering Ebony's spot.

A hand burst out from the pile pointing upward at the sky. With a gasp, Ebony shuffled rock and stone away from her head and lifted herself waist high from the mound. Still hallway in the pile, she coughed out chalky dust and collected herself. She was already exhausted from the battle.

"What the fucking hell," She shrieked. "You stupid prep! You ruined my foundation."

As she screamed, in the galley overlooking the dungeon room, six other Hogwarts students lined up side-by-side like chess pieces ready for battle. It was almost as if the formation was second nature to them as they took their positions staring down at the scene. Alistair stood with his evil smile at a pile of rocks, in which a gothic vampire girl named Ebony was poking her head from. The boiling cauldron behind her was brought down to a light simmer as the flames lost their burning fuel. All of the students stood in a poised position as the air, still thick with must and dirt, cleared around them in an odd and unsettling calm.

Alistair flicked his gaze up at the group before turning his attention towards Ebony as she continued to complain about herself.

"My crop top is all ruined now," Ebony screamed. "Do you know how much this cost at Hot Topic? Now I have to borrow something from Raven but she got expelled and I'm not talking to fucking Bloody Mary anymore! And Good Charlotte is going to be coming to Hogsmeade any day and this is all I have to wear. Do you know what happens if I don't get m-."

 _Hey Annie_ , Alistair thought. _This asshole is getting annoying._ _I don't know if I can handle her any longer._

 _"_ And then Draco is going to dump me for Vampire and then they'll go to the Forbidden Forest and do the stuff with each other!" Ebony continued.

 _Agreed_ , Annie replied. _There isn't much left to do, though. Just follow the lead of those guys in the mezzanine._

 _The what?_

 _The balcony._

Like a synchronized group of knights raging into battle, the group raised their wands perpendicular to the sky. Laila, Lacie, Aisen, Warren, Callie and Edmund all wore blank expressions as the tips of their wands ignited. The ivory light fizzled, but then grew to become more powerful like the flames of a fire that was just fed more coal. A ringing noise rose from the balcony as the wands charged up for a special assault.

 _What is this? What are they doing? Is this what they meant by connection? The weird dreams. The strange electricity. It's because we've been chosen for something._

 _Vanquishing the evil spirit. Thought you'd figure that out by now._

 _I'm sorry_ , Alistair thought with impertinence. _I've only been tortured and got my left arm cut off and found out there was a person inside the necklace I've worn and now I'm getting rid of some evil spirit that tried to possess me to get a ring even though I'm kinda being possessed now and finding out that me and six other people are somehow connected on a level I've never thought of before._

 _Are you done?_

 _No, but I guess I'll have to wait till later._

* * *

It took a lot to get Calista genuinely surprised in Hogwarts anymore.

Not much noteworthy had happened in the history of the school since the defeat of Voldemort. Based on her dealings with muggles, considering she was muggle born, the school was basically the typical high school found in those old movies from the 1980's. Hogwarts had jocks and nerds and the teasing and bullying that occured in the dark corners of the moving staircase. There were strange clubs that ran about in a clandestine way and the rolls of homework that Calista scribbled through like a hot knife cutting a stick of butter. Yes, packing a bunch of prepubescent and hormonal teenagers into an enclosed space, as large as it was, should spell recipe for disaster.

Outside of the House hate that had dissipated some, save for the packed down apprehension whenever Slytherin was involved in anything, the Hogwarts drama was nothing that could not be resolved by means not involving magic. Maybe a limb was torn from a student due to a bad apparition, and a bowtruckle would periodically escape Hagrid's clutches and gobble up the food in the kitchen which caused mass panic from shrieking house elves. That was about all she could recall.

Despite this, her mouth was wide and agape with shock as she looked at the most unlikely group of people point their wands down in sync with each other and shouted out in unison.

 _"Ascendo tuum!"_

The white lights joined together and beamed down in one cascade onto the pile Ebony was buried within. Enveloping her, Ebony cried out in pain with every thrust of the spell.

Calista had many questions ranging from why these random strangers were taking down some girl trapped in rock. Not only that, but Alistair Leonhardt was standing right in front of the girl and shooting the white spell at her with the other six students. His eyes glowed in a dangerous way, but his left arm was also missing from his body. Whatever happened before she arrived, a dark magic was starting to cloud again over Hogwarts. It was just a matter of time before it happened again.

"Lacie!" Robbie, who was standing in front of Calista to the side of the balcony entrance, spotted his sister as she was the one closest towards him and Calista. Robbie jolted himself forward. Without a word, Calista grabbed onto his forearm and pulled him back. Robbie shot her a pained look, worried that something was deeply wrong. Calista knew, though, that whatever this was they were performing, it had to be finished.

Beatrice and Julian were just as in shock. However, there was nothing they could do to intervene. Beatrice covered her mouth. Julian hid behind her and poked his head out once in a while to see what was happening. Beatrice was as lost as everyone else. Julian had to admit that he was quite scared at this point. The evil lady in the center of the room was enough to haunt his dreams. Yet, the dead stare in the eyes of the people on the balcony, matched with the way Alistair stood in the center of the room, was something that would take him many bottles of warm butterbeer in order to feel even the slightest bit safe.

Down on the floor, Ebony began to disappear into thin leafs of debris and dust. She clawed at her face like a witch melting in water. The loud reverberation of the spell bounced off the cavernous walls and created a thick din that bumped through Alistair's ears.

"What did I do to deserve this?" She cried out.

"You messed with Hogwarts," Alistair said with a deep growl. Then, he gave out one last flash of a grin. "And you messed with a Leonhardt."

Ebony screamed one last time before her body exploded in a great burst of black smoke. The white jets immediately disintegrated like the shims of dust that vanished in the air.

The group above lowered down their wands. Then, they all shook their heads as if they were waking up from a daze. The dull look in their eyes faded away, and their normal hues resumed as they all blinked away the spots that formed from the light. They all looked at each other at a loss for words as to what occurred.

"How did we..." Callie trailed off.

"Where are we?" Edmund asked more to himself than others.

"Figures," Laila added. "Just as I was falling asleep."

Meanwhile, towards the bottom of the room, Alistair felt the surge of energy fade away. His face fell in a tired sigh as his legs gave way like the pillars being walloped with magic just seconds before. HE grunted as his knees collided with the floor. The rest of his body tilted forward, and he fell face down onto the cold surface. He gasped and tried to capture sweet oxygen into his lungs as the sudden fatigue rendered him motionless.

 _Seriously_ , a dull voice sounded in Alistair's mind. _You messed with a Leonhardt? You are corny._

 _What's this?_ Alistair said as he breathed hard. _Does this normally happen after you help?_

 _Nope_ , Annie said in a way that made Alistair hear the small smirk in her voice. _You're just weak. But you'll get used to it. I'll be doing this a lot more soon._

Whatever, Alistair said. _Thanks, Annie._

 _Just go to sleep, idiot. You deserve it._

Without another thought, the ruby light in the reformed crystal clung to Alistair's sweat-soaked shirt faded out like a smothered candle. As well as Alistair, for he shut his eyes, no longer glowing, and proceeded to exit the rest of the physical world for the rest of the night.

* * *

 **So a little action to add to your dose of cheeky humor. At least, I think it's cheeky. You might think it's annoying, but whatever.**

 **So thank you so much for staying along for the ride. I consider this sort of the end of the first act, but maybe it is just the beginning. We'll see!**

 **I noticed that the number of reviews over the past couple of chapters have fallen down a bit. I get it. I didn't ask the last chapter for reviews, and I know people are on vacation and moving around for the start of summer. Just make sure to not fall off the wagon and keep up the amazing reviews. Seriously, critique and analyze all you want! I can handle it!**

 **But what about this chapter? Did you predict anything like this? What does this all mean? And where you surprised by my random crossover. I always like intertextuality, so maybe a few references here and there would help. I hope you did get the reference by the way. If not, ask someone.**

 **I want you all to know that you are great readers and reviewers, and I would not be motivated to do this without you. Keep it up, and we will have ourselves an amazing time with this! I hope you guys are having as much fun with this as I am!**

 **So tell me what you think of everything! Do you have any suggestion!**

 **Also, fan art! Silver Tulip has heeded my call and provided some a wicked drawing to look at. I hope drawing becomes plural very soon, because I love seeing things like this! On tumblr, check it out at flowersami!**

 **Thank you. See you soon!**


	16. This Guy Again

"Unconscious? That doesn't mean dead, right?"

"That's a shame."

"You want him dead?"

"He almost escaped the hell that is being here. I'm jealous."

"Did they find the ring?"

"Why is the ring important?"

"So I can destroy it."

"It's mine. I say whether it gets destroyed."

"Please stop arguing. You're going to make me upset."

"You're one to talk. My clothes are ruined. It took me forever to put this together."

"Hey, he's moving around."

"Should we give him space?"

"No, we should huddle really close to him.

"Why?"

"So he doesn't get cold! He could get hypothermalio if we don't. Or hypermania. I forgot what it's called, but I read about it in comic."

"Can't you just enjoy wizarding literature for once?"

"Hyperthermia, idiot. Fine, let's do it."

That was how Alistair woke up in the Hospital Wing. Sensing a dirge of bodies surrounding him like a moat protecting a castle, his eyelids were boulders as he heaved them upwards to view the sight above him. A rainbow of eyes peered down on him like ravens preparing to pluck a carcass for meat. Their heads different and flashing a plethora of different emotions, he whooped and slid back on his rigid pillow.

Alistair cringed when he heard his own voice, still hoarse and tender from the screaming the night previous

"Oh no. I think we scared him," Callie said.

The group backed up. The sunlight that beamed through the giant, cathedral windows in the walls bathed the hospital wing with a warm and comforting light. From the light, Alistair panned his vision across the gaggle of students.

The Ravenclaw guy with the scars wore an unreadable expression with his arms crossed. Edmund gulped and tugged at his shirt collar, clearly nervous at him on the bed. Laila looked almost bored as she gave out a small sigh and had her mouth twitched in a sideways direction. Lacie huffed and brushed off specks of dust that rested on the lapels of her robes. Callie tapped her foot and bit her fingernails as her shoulders rose up in a protective fashion.

Behind them, Beatrice and Julian stood by and observed the group. Julian was a little goruchy from the long night. However, he could not help but relax his posture from the stirrings of the older Slytherin on the bed.

"He's alive!"

Aisen, the excitable blonde he was, skipped over to Alistair and leaned over him. He pushed on Alistair's shoulder and shook him like a small kid being violent to a baby cradle.

"Oh my god, it was amazing. You were doing these crazy jumps, and you're eyes were glowing like Shinji's in NGE, but then we did something really cool as well. Then, there was a great big flash and that creepy girl disappeared and we killed her lik-."

Aisen choked as he was pulled back from the collar of his shirt. It was Calista who shoved Aisen to the side. Her face stout and annoyed, she glared over at Aisen before looking down at the injured boy in the bed. Her face seemed to soften, and she had an almost relieved appearance on her face as her thin eyebrows perched upward.

"You need water?"

Alistair normally would have been happy that Calista appeared to be concerned for him. Unfortunately, just as he began to pull his parched lips back in a watery smile, the dull headache that thunked the inside of his skull popped a line of pain. He groaned out and scooted himself to a seated position on the bed. He noticed the thin cloth of the periwinkle hospital wing gown that shielded his skin from the stuffed, tension heavy air.

"Relax," Calista said. "I'll get the water."

Alistair shifted himself towards the left and saw a tall glass of pristine water standing still on a nightstand.

"I got it," he said in a soft voice. He reached over for the glass.

Only to find there was no way he could reach it.

Alistair wondered why he was not able to grab the glass. When he looked down towards his shoulder, he gasped at the empty air surrounding the stump.

Like that, the memories of the previous night collided with the dull throbbing he felt in his head. Search for the treasure. Saving Aisen from the fall. Being tortured by that crazy goth girl.

His arm.

His crystal somehow saving him.

The group before him helping him vanquish the creature.

Alistair cracked his mouth open and whipped his head around. The events were quite disruptive to his nerves, and he tensed up as the group examined at him. Alistair did not like how they seemed to study him, tracing their eyes over him like he was a thestral they were witnessing for the first time. He already felt like throwing up from the pity that they sent him with their postures and looks. However, a small flame of anger also swirled around with his confusion. Why did this have to happen to him? Why was he punished? Why did he have to lose his arm?

Then again, he also felt a little grateful. He could easily be dead or possessed right now if it were not for the actions of the six other students. Not only that, but Annie in the crystal certainly helped.

Wait. Crystal. He patted his chest, but he felt only the flat plane of his skin and no bump to signal the presence of the gem.

"The crystal," Alistair said. "Where is it?"

Everyone gave him a confused stare.

"The crystal around my neck!"

Lacie pointed at the nightstand on the other side of his bed. "They took it off when you got here. It's really nice, by the way. Is it real ruby?"

Without any other hindrance, Alistair rolled over to his other side, grunting when he mashed his right shoulder and arm, coated with browning bruises, onto the sturdy mattress. He snapped his other arm out and snatched the crystal. He draped it around his neck which still held an angry rash of imprinted chain links. It gleamed in the bright room as it fell to the extent that the chain allowed, circling in the air as it rested in the middle of his chest.

Most of the students thought Alistair to be deranged for appearing more shocked by his crystal than lack of arm. They decided not to press further.

"Goodness, your awake."

Headmistress McGonagall, seeing the commotion, strode in her normal green robes and tall black hat towards the bed. Her face wrinkled with worry, she brushed back a strand of her mousy, whitened hair while her gait slumped forward. Behind her, Audrey hustled along still wearing her silk purple pajama robes from the night. She had a coy look on her face, as if she was trying to mask her distress.

At the head of his bed, McGonagall stepped back and allowed Audrey to come up to him. Wearing a tight smile, she took a hand and stroked his head. Alistair cringed and tried to sink himself into the bed. He knew that this kind of smile was the fake one she put on.

"Hello, little brother," Audrey said in a saccharine voice. She tugged on a thread of his hair.

"Uh, hey," Alistair said in a non-chalant voice.

"Did you sleep well last night?" Audrey asked as her smile tweaked for a blink.

Alistair shuddered at the tone in her voice. It was like the calm before a massive storm hit. "I...did?"

That was when Audrey let go of his hair. Then, she slammed her fist into Alistair's chest. He barked out a groan as Audrey grabbed Alistair by the shoulders.

"Dummy," Audrey said. "Dummy Alistair."

"Audrey, I have a headache," Alistair whined.

"I don't care," Audrey said as stammered out while her face contorted into one of melancholy. Her nose tightened up as her eyes widened with worry. She shook Alistair like a rag doll, causing him to moan out with the sensation of temporary whiplash.

"Please, I've been th-."

"Why can't you just be normal," Audrey said as her eyes watered with saline. "Why can't you just go to school and almost fail your classes and annoy people like you're supposed to? You don't need a treasure! You don't need to be famous or anything like that! You don't need to be some suave guy that messes around with girls all day. You just have to be a normal student, Ali. Why isn't it enough for you?"

"Maybe normal means famous for me," Alistair defended himself. "Maybe some people can live just being nobody and getting by, but that's not me. And you should know that by now...'big sister.' Or do you forget what dad said to me before I left?"

Audrey stopped her shaking and sat down next to Alistair on the bed. She rubbed at her eyes, trying to stop a flow of tears from starting. Alistair rubbed his temple, considering her words. He cleared his throat to attempt to sound stronger than he was at the moment.

Audrey looked away from him and down towards the oak floorboards under them.

They both sat in silence, a small void forming between them. The others watched on at the scene. Callie even took a step forward and wondered if they should save this talk for another time. However, Calista put an arm out and stopped her.

"Mom and dad are gonna freak when they get down here."

Alistair frowned. "It's their fault."

Audrey looked over her shoulder at Alistair. She saw his face, somewhat stronger and yet almost angry. She shifted herself to be face-to-face with him.

"Especially dad," Alistair said. "He's always been pushing me to be something really big and great with my life. And maybe I thought this could help."

"But this isn't what he meant," Audrey said in a near whisper. "He meant get a good job. Be an auror like him. Don't be a bum that begs in Diagon Alley or unleash some evil demon that tries to possess you."

Alistair nodded. "You know I don't want to be that. An auror."

Audrey smiled and gave out a small chuckle. "There's still time to figure it out. What you want to be. There always is," she said.

Then, Alistair groaned out again as Audrey smacked his chest. "But there won't be if you die. So don't do this again," Audrey said in a stern voice like a chastizing mom. She jabbed a finger at Alistair.

Edmund took a deep breath and stepped forward. He peered over at McGonagall and cleared his throat. "For as necessary as this is, we have been waiting for an explanation."

McGonagall looked down at Alistair and Audrey. A flash of regret shimmered in her worn eyes as she stroked her chin.

"Well?" Calista asked.

The Headmistress looked up at the group and watched them like an old woman reminiscing about the youth of her day. She seemed to be drowned in rough, deep memories that swam on the edges of a storming ocean. Her eyebrows perched upward, her bagged eyes dimmed with shades of concern at the fate that had been assigned to the people on the Hospital Wing.

"I suggest chairs, Madame Pomfrey," McGonagall said over to the older healer. "This will be a hefty discussion."

* * *

"So the ring," Calista broke through the silence. "It's Warren's."As the sun rose higher up, the shadows cast over the halls dimmed away. The sky as clear as ever, owls zoomed across the horizon with ivory flutters dancing along the quiet autumn breeze. The halls of the school remained as crowded and busy as ever. It seemed that only the people in this particular room were aware of the events that occurred last night. Students chatted about and gossiped about each other. A small squabble between houses concerning cheating broke out. It was the typical routine of spells and smoke that filtered through the bright and sun-soaked hills and halls of Hogwarts.

Around the semi-circle that formed by Alistair's bed, the mass of people listened to McGonnagall's speech. As she croaked out her words, the rumbling of the school bell signaled the end of the first class.

Then, a second rumble.

Rumble.

By the end of her speech, noon had hit them like a punch to the gut. Mostly, the punch came from the bevy of information that was tossed onto their heads.

"In a sense," the Headmistress said. "This ring was always intended to be given to Mister Monger at the end of the year, bu-."

"Why the end of the year?" Warren growled as he perched himself at the edge of his seat, ready for attack. Callie shrunk into herself as Julian could not help but hide behind Beatrice's chair, almost spilling his canteen of pumpkin juice. Robbie could not help but reach for his wand while the air grew thick with tension. Warren's eyes were locked right on the older lady as he bore his teeth in anger.

"The ring is not to be worn," she said. "It is yours due to your lineage with the Gaunts. As for the end of the year, we had hoped the side effects of the ring would not come to pass. Sadly, the emotions you all have felt ranging from odd sensations to longing. It comes from the ring."

"Who are those people? The Gaunts?" Edmund asked. "Why haven't we heard of them?"

"The Gaunts," Calista turned to Edmund. "They were the magical part of Voldemort's lineage."

Robbie cringed when he heard the name spoken. As well as Callie and Edmund who shivered like a deep chill swooped into the room. They remained in silence for a second as if Calista was conveying the drama of the title.

"So Warren is related to Voldemort?" Robbie nearly squeaked in an extremely non-manly way.

Warren clenched his fists as he tried to compose himself. He knew his secret would be given away very soon, but this was too much for him to fathom. On top of that, Robbie already knew that he was a werewolf. Both of these things, along with being a Parselmouth, would be painting a massive target on his back for the rest of the year. All he needed was his ring and to be left alone, and it appeared neither of those things would happen any time soon.

"On his mother's side, yes," McGonagall said. "Marvolo Gaunt gave birth to a son named Morfin, who decided to force himself on a witch one time. He was very mentally unwell, and he took advantage of this individual. That created another line of the Gaunt family that had not been discovered. Your parents and grandparents, Warren, have done a deal of a job to conceal this from the rest of the world."

"So Voldemort," Warren whispered in an angry fashion. "He's like my great uncle or something?"

"No, he'd be like a grandpa," Calista said.

"That's so gross," Lacie said more to herself than anyone else. Robbie, who was seated next to her, patted her on the shoulder.

"Regardless," McGonagall continued. "The Gaunt Ring was used as a Horcrux, which was used to conceal Voldemort's soul or a apart of it into an object. It was his plan for immortality. It was destroyed, but things that are horcruxes never go back to being the same. There is a curse that is placed on them, and this curse can cause some horrendous retributions."

"Like losing an arm?" Alistair wise-cracked in his bed.

"Like the return of Voldemort."

Silence.

More silence.

"The fuck?" Lacie cried out.

McGonagall sighed. "It is true. As Voldemort split his soul into seven pieces, there are seven bits of his soul that were split from the horcruxes' destruction. These bits are curses that try to attach themselves to certain people in order to reach the ring and resurrect the being whose soul was entrapped in the object. Not completely, but a footprint of the being. A footprint that can mimic and interact the same way as any other."

"So his soul never completely vanished?" Calista asked.

"It will once the seven curses are defeated," McGonagall replied. "To counterbalance it, the ring has chosen seven people to protect it. At random, they are selected by the object to stop the curses from resurrecting it's master. I do not know exactly how it works, but that's all that I can say."

"So the girl that attacked me," Alistair said. She was attracted to the sin of lust. Which was me. And who was she again? She was going on about posers and preps and she was a vampire that talked a lot about some guy named Draco."

McGonagall shrugged. "Honestly, I have no idea. A strange one indeed. Perhaps just some mediocre dunces."

"Well, that's great," Laila said, ignoring McGonagall's out of character words. "All we have to do is kill of six more evil spirits and save the fucking magical world." Laila shot to her feet and knocked the wooden chair she was seated onto it's back. The clatter caused everyone to flinch.

"Miss Va-."

"Don't 'miss' me," Laila shouted. "I didn't sign up for this shit! This was supposed to be an easy year. Get through the first year of NEWTS and go home. I'm not here to get rid of a guy that was supposed to be gone a long time ago. And the fuck is up with this guy? Can't he just leave us alone? Can't the wizarding gods give us a new evil wizard to hate? There's plenty out there!"

"It does not matter," McGonagall said. "This ring belongs to Mister Monger. However, to protect it from those who wish to use it for harm, it has assigned you a role in this. Along with the other six who contributed to the defeat of the other creature. Now, we believe that there is a narrative theme that is being followed here. One regarding the seven deadly sins in Christian literature. As for which is which, some are apparent like lust," McGonagall said while pointing over at Alistair. He could not help but give off a slight blush. "And some are still to be discovered."

"But why us?" Callie asked? "Why not adults?"

"Yeah, why is it always students that are doing the evil wizard defeating?" Audrey said from the beside next to Alistair.

"I wish I knew," McGonagall said as she removed her trademark hat in a solemn gesture. "But you have been selected. Miss Vaernes, Miss Burghley, Miss O'Conner, Mister Yuki, Mister Wright, Mister Monger, and Mister Leonhardt. You have all been picked. I know this is a lot to process, so please take the rest of the day for yourselves. I feared that this would happen since the ministry had allowed that object in the school. But it is a binding magical pact that has been burdened onto you all. The best we can do is prepare for the future. I will discuss that with you all individually at another time."

McGonnagall stood up. The group was in complete shell shock as they looked around the room hoping for the joke to end.

"As for the ones who have not been chosen but know this," McGonagall gestured at Robbie, Calista, Beatrice, and Julian. "You are more than welcome to assist, but any word of this to others will result in immediate expulsion. There must be no speak of this to anybody."

"What about my dad," Robbie said. "He must know."

"The Minister of Magic is already aware of this and has accepted it," McGonagall smiled. "In fact, he was quite proud of how you and your sister handled yourselves last night."

"But..." Robbie trailed off. "Uh...Leonhardt. His arm is still missing."

Alistair raised an eyebrow. He was curious as well about the story behind this.

"As far as Mister Leonhardt is concerned, he recklessly walked into the Dungeons and had his arm taken off by a faulty pillar centuries old. And if any of you are pressed further on the matter, refer anybody to me. I will explain the full, true situation to his parents, of course. And now, it is time to give Mister Leonhardt something," she said before motioning to Madame Pomfrey.

As the nurse headed towards them, the group turned to themselves.

"So, we gotta stop evil beings from destroying the school," Edmund said in a deadpan tone.

"You know, this could be fun," Aisen said. "I mean, it is kinda scary, but we wanted excitement this year. We got it."

"Speak for yourself," Laila said.

"Are we gonna have to take extra classes for this?" Lacie asked. "I'd prefer my leisure time to not be cut."

As they finished, Madame Pomfrey came forward. Cradled in her arms was a metal device. It was a silver sleeve that gleamed in the pale sunlight that encompassed the hospital wing. With four fingers and a thumb on the ends, a number of gears and crevices ran down the edges of the device. At the other end, a bundle of small, tentacle-esque strings lay dormant in the shoulder socket.

Pomfrey placed the shoulder end on the stump Alistair had in lieu of his real arm. The tentacles gripped onto his shoulder and emanated a strange warmth like a smoldering bed pan. He grunted out as the tentacles snapped the socket into place. The arm stuck to where the empty area used to be. Ridges rolled down the front and back of the frame to mimic hinges that provided for typical bodily movement. It was a chrome arm that fit onto him just like his real one.

"Magic can't heal everything," Pomfrey said. "But until we find a way to rid the curse that vampire put on your arm, you will need to use this. It will take time to learn it, and it needs regular maintenance, but it will work like a regular arm."

Alistair looked down at the arm. He put a finger on it and felt the cool chrome. However, as he contemplated his situation, Aisen gasped and ran over to his bedside. His eyes glistening with excitement, he bounced on his tiptoes. Alistair sat back, and Audrey shifted to face Aisen in a protective manner as he guffawed at the device.

"No way," Aisen chirped. "Now you're just like Edward Elric from Fullmetal Alchemist! That arm is so cool."

Alistair gazed at Aisen's excited face while the others stared at him. He did feel bummed out by the whole situation. When he asked for glory and fame, this was not what he had in mind. The fact that the treasure had been revealed as something he could not even possess was very disappointing. It was much to process, something that he knew the others were going through as well. Why were they picked specifically? Sure, Alistair could see the sin of lust be used to describe him, but plenty of people in the school had done things like he did to other girls. It was not horribly atypical of upper year students. How would they keep defeating these spirits? Would they keep having arms chopped off?

Maybe he did deserve what he had coming towards him. He had not been a saint even taking out all of his extracurricular activities. He was being punished, and maybe this was a wake up call for him.

However, even if he did take this time to make a change, when would the next one come and how? Would his crystal and Annie be enough to protect him and the others? What would happen if they felt those same feelings and faded memories again. They would have to actively search out the school for any signs of trouble to defeat the spirits. Alistair did not want to be lured into a trap, and he would dislike if any of the others were as well.

And yes, he was upset about his arm. His parents, despite their high standards, did care about him and would be on the warpath. He prayed for McGonagall that she would still be in the land of the living afterwards. He sighed as he looked down at the resting cool metal still on the bedsheets.

"I guess it is kinda cool," Alistair said with a small smile. "I like how it looks. And I'm sure it will get attention."

McGonagall took this as her time to leave. She began to head for the exit. "I will be in contact with you all soon. Please rest and calm down the rest of the afternoon."

"Wait, Professor,"

She turned around. Calista stood up in front of the chair and brushed back a strand of hair.

"I've heard rumors Voldemort may have had a daughter," Calista said. "Is that true?"

A pause.

Then, a chuckle from McGonagall's browning teeth.

"My dear, that would be one of the dumbest additions to a story I have ever heard. Surely, we would know if Voldemort had an offspring of some kind."

She left behind much confusion, anxiety, and perhaps just a twinge of excitement behind her in the Hospital Wing.

* * *

 **So a bit of an explanation. But still many questions to be answered.**

 **Thank you so much. i see not as many reviews still on the last chapter, but I understand people are moving around for summer. Just make sure to keep up with it okay. I crave your feedback in order to give you the best SYOC I can give!**

 **So what did you think of this? Is it stupid? Is it clever? Is it anything you guessed? What do you think will happen next?**

 **Please review and tell a friend about us! I would love extra readers.**

 **By the way, we have even MOAR fanart. This time it is a sketch of Alistair! From a very talented artist called Aini, you can check it out at alkaline1303 on TUMBLR! Tell me what you think of that, too. Is that how you envisioned that character? Let us know!**

 **Thank you so much. I really appreciate your love and support. Keep reading onward!**

 **Thank you. See you soon!**


	17. The Golden Septet

In the Great Hall, nobody paid the crew of seven students sitting in the dim corner any mind during dinner time. The floating dishes of steaming honey rolls and spiced curry wafted the luminescent air of delectable food that dotted the expansive oak tables. The other students talked and joked with each others, laughing with pure ignroance as they grabbed another loaf of banana nut break from a flying silver platter.

But the seven students huddled in the corner were not in the same jocular state as the others. They stared down at empty golden plates, their appetites extinguished like the smoldering wick of the lavender candle placed in the center of the table. Edmund and Callie appeared as nervous as ever; the anal-retentive Gryffindor bit his fingers down to their nubs while Callie rocked in her chair to ease her nerves.

Warren and Laila sulked in their spots. The serious Ravenclaw had his hand rested on his chin as he glared at a spot in the wood below him. Laila frowned and tapped her foot, the small thunk of her leather shoes hardly making a dent in the dearth of noise emanating from the students around them. With a sneer, Warren seethed with quiet abstraction to himself as a snake does after missing an easy prey. This feeling of longing was still annoying him to no end. However, he was certain of the cure even if the others did not want him to reach it. Why could they not just give him the ring? Surely, he could not become possessed. He was too strong and too stubborn for that.

Lacie took a long drag of her green tea. She pulled out a mirror compact and made sure the frizzes on the edges of her hair were flattened. She hoped that nobody in the Hall had noticed how makeup-less her face had become. It was troublesome enough to get Robbie to leave her alone for just a few seconds, but now he was constantly watching her. Evident as he peered at her from across the Great Hall with his friends, some of whom concerned at their leader's odd behavior.

Alistair had many thoughts in his head as he stared at the metal ligament resting on the table before him. After finally regaining his strength, Pomfrey had deemed him fit to walk out of the hallway. Thankfully, due to the rush of hungry students, few had noticed him walking into the Great Hall. He was not sure how grateful he was for that. True, he always admired being the center of attention, but would he become a pariah to people? Walking into class the next day with a metal arm would cause a few lingering looks at best and full on interrogations at worst.

It would be difficult for him to lie about something like his arm being missing. Not to mention, he was still on high alert, his head swiveling at the sound of any sudden snap or crack that, fortunately, turned out to be Peeves messing with a student or a second year dropping a plate. His eyes wide and wrinkled creased underneath them, his nerves sat on the precarious edge of a meadow and a sea cliff.

A small voice in his head whimpered out why he was the victim. It seemed so unfair. He was just a teenager enjoying the perks of his youth. Why did that mean he deserved this pain? Why did that assign him this duty that was now clasped onto his neck like the chain of his crystal hugging his chest from underneath his robes?

"So what sin do you think I am?"

Everyone looked over at Aisen. The kid smiled and swung his legs on the bench, trying to lighten the mood. He seemed to be the only one that was not in horrible discontent over the events. In fact, he seemed somewhat eager to continue onward with whatever journey was written for the seven students and their friends.

"Probably stupidity," Laila said before sucking down on her pumpkin juice.

"That's not very nice," Callie said. "You just met him a few hours ago."

I met everyone a few hours ago. Well, except you," Laila said as she pointed at Alistair. The Slytherin stopped in mid-chew of his filet mignon and looked at Laila like a deer staring down car headlights. He gulped and tilted his head.

"Yeah, you," Laila said. "Remember me from last year?"

"You two have met?" Edmund said next to Alistair.

"Uh," Alistair started. "I don't remember much about anything from last year."

Laila rolled her eyes. "You tried to sleep with me last year."

"What? No, I don't reme-."

"The weekend of the Quidditch Championship," Laila said. "You got drunk on firewhiskey the night before and told me I was the most beautiful girl in the world. Then, you asked me to go up to the Owlery with you."

The rest of the group groaned out in disgust.

"Seriously?" Warren deadpanned.

"That's so gross," Lacie cringed. "Do you know what's on the floors and walls up there?"

"Not sanitary," Edmund chimed in.

"I didn't," Alistair said. "I just...wanted to go stargazing or something."

Aisen let out a chuckle as Laila scoffed in how ridiculous the excuse sounded. However, Alistair looked around at the group. The appeared to be more at ease from breaking the ice. Callie even gave off a tight, watery smile as she poked at a grain of rice on her plate. Lacie giggled and covered her mouth before she looked out at the Great Hall. Business as usual. Even Warren eased up and relaxed him his chair.

"You think the professors will train us," Callie asked with a twinge of fear in her eyes. "I don't think I could take a being like that on by myself."

"I feel like these things will come to us," Edmund said. "If they need us to get the ring. So should we just wait?"

"But we should figure out who or what they are first," Warren said as he grabbed his cup of water. "To defend ourselves."

"I'd prefer not to," Callie said. "Merlin, I wish we had that thing that muggles had. The thing that brings them back to life."

A pause. The group shot Callie inquisitve looks.

"Back to life?" Edmund said.

"You know," Callie blushed. "Life insurance. If a muggle pays money every month, and they die, they get brought back to life. It's called life insurance."

Edmund and Lacie exchanged glances with each other. Alistair tugged at his robe collar.

"Callie, that's not at all what life insurance is," Alistair said slowly.

"But then why is it called life insurance?"

"Did you think muggles were brought back to life if they paid for life insurance?" Aisen asked almost in a genuine tone.

"I don't know," Callie said in a flustered tone. "I don't know how muggles work!"

"Anyway," Lacie added. "I'll be too busy with other things," Lacie added. "I can't risk losing all that for something like this."

"Are you all serious?"

The group looked over to Alistair. He wore a serious frown as his eyebrows arched towards each other His eyes were narrowed in a short glare that surrounded the table. He bucked up in his chair and clenched his fists. His face, slim and angular, crossed into a face of seriousness that diverted from his normal sly, mischievous smirk.

"I just lost my arm a few hours ago," Alistair said. "This thing is real. Whatever it is, it's going to attack one of us, and we can beat it but it has to be us together. I don;t like being put in this, either. I wanted to make a name for myself. Be somebody in this castle. And this isn't how I wanted to do it. But you know what? Fuck it!"

"Calm down, Ali-."

"Quiet, Aisen," Alistair said to the boy, who shrunk back with a slightly pained expression. "If the way we are remembered is by saving this damn school from being blown up by some loser again, then we should do it. This moron with his ugly as fuck nose and face and stupid voice has been ruining my house' reputation for too long. Eveyrwhere I turn, it's someone talking about how horrible Slytherin is and how thsi guy tried to kill everyone and nobody good ever coming out of the house. Look at us! We are all connected now, and it had fuck-all to do with what House we are in. So let's do something with ourselves! We have the rest of our lives to wander around and wonder what our purpose is and whether we are ever going to find our place. For now, we have a purpose and a place. And it's right here to save this school. It's time I win back what belongs to Slytherin and what belongs to me. It's time we take this guy down once and for all."

"So revenge," Laila said. "That's what you're doing this for."

"Wouldn't you like to kill the thing that took your arm away?"

"Good point."

Edmund tugged on Alistair's shoulder. The exasperated Slytherin turned and locked eyes with him, shooting a questioning glare. Edmund could not help but swallow, his heart jumping as his vibrant green eyes locked onto his. He was just inches away from someone who, before yesterday, had not given him more than a cordial nod whenever they bumped in the hallway. Such a cool, enigmatic figure. The complete opposite of Edmund, yet oddly soothing and enticing to him nevertheless.

Alistair's harsh gaze softened at the solemn look Edmund gave him. He sighed and slumped back into his chair.

"We're stuck together either way," Warren said. "So...I guess we should..."

"Work together?" Aisen asked and looked around at them.

"Better that than alone, I guess," Callie whimpered.

Alistair smiled.

They were all a strange bunch for sure. A fussy, materialistic girl who happened to be the sister of his greatest rival. A disfigured, imposing angry man who seemed to hold many more secrets than just the one they were now connected with. A quiet, shy Hufflepuff girl who looked like she could not even hurt a housefly. A girl from the same house with a morbid sense of humor who had no time for any of this bullshit. An excitable, brash blonde that was more interested in his strange muggle obsessions than his schoolwork. A prim and proper Gryffindor who, as stuck up as he appeared to be, was just an awkward dork underneath the surface.

Not to mention, all of the friends in the periphery would have an undeniable impact as well.

Then, there was him. Alistair Leonhardt. A boy who just weeks go was far more concerned about how many girls he could bed than what career he would be choosing, was now roped into a plot to stop evil spirits from using an evil ring to bring back an evil wizard. Things had become quite serious for him, but he looked around at the castle, and he wondered how lucky and unlucky he could be at the same time. Unlucky because he was still traumatized by his fight with Ebony and now sporting a fake arm, but lucky that he had a fate that would lead him to heroics and reward not seen by any student since the Great Battle years previous.

If there was one guarantee about Hogwarts, it was that the school would never be boring.

"Hey, I have an idea," Aisen said to break Alistair out of his reverie. "Since we're like a team now, we can have a guild name, right?"

Edmund raised an eyebrow. "Like a team name?"

"Yeah," Aisen nodded like an excited puppy. "But guild is a much cooler term. You know, the Mauraders had th-."

"The who?" Warren asked.

"Gryffindor secret!" Edmund cried out.

"Oh, right," Aisen said. "Well we need a name. How about...Magnificient Seven."

"The Seven Deadly Sins," Laila said. "So it's like a gang name. Gives us an attitude."

"The Golden Septet? Nah, doesn't have a ring to it," Lacie said.

"We could just be the seven students that need to not discuss this in the Great Hall," Edmund whispered in a brash tone.

Alistair gasped as a lightbulb popped over his head. "I have an idea. When you think of Hogwarts, what are you reminded of?"

"Death," Laila stated.

"Food," Aisen stated.

"Secrets."

"Not quite Warren," Alistair explained. "Think, rebuilding. Resilience. Strength. Hogwarts has bee beaten over and over again. The walls have been broken, and people have been attacked and even killed here. But every time, Hogwarts rises up from the ashes. We get stronger. When the next challenge comes up, we fight to the end. And even if we lose, we keep rising up even stronger than ever. We are a beacon that shines bright in a dark forest, calling for people to come home."

"He's being really sappy today," Lacie whispered to Laila.

"Which is why," Alistair interrupted. "I have the perfect name."

"And that would be?"

"The Smoldering Owls!"

Silence. All eyes blinked up at Alistair.

Then, an eruption. It started with Aisen, then transferred over to Edmund. Then, Lacie and Laila followed suit. Callie tried to stomp out her giggle, but ultimately failed. Even Warren had to join in with the rest of the group in the avalanche of laughter that followed. His pearly teeth bared out with a small chuckle at the stupidity. Soon, the whole table was nearly doubled over in laughter at the corny pun that was just presented to them.

Alistair had to join in as well. He did not want to seem like a poor sport, and even he had to admit how silly all of this appeared to be towards any onlookers. For once, he was okay being the punchline to the joke.

After all, these were the moments Hogwarts was made for.

* * *

 **So a bit of a bridge chapter to get us into the next segment of the story. Just something fun and relaxing.**

 **So what did you think of this? Things are getting interesting, and you'll want to see what happens next. Who is what sin? What wlll happen next? How will the others be affected by this or what will they do?**

 **And we are still accepting OCs if any of you are interested. Please, spread word of this story! The more, the merrier. And make sure to review! It is so important to me, and I know getting these chapters out is important to you as well! You are terrific people, and I look forward to you being here with me every step of the way. Don't give up on me, and I will return the favor with better updates and a fun story that we can all love!**

 **Thank you. See you soon!**


	18. Instigation

Aisen usually knew when he was in a dream.

The weightlessness of his limbs along with the dead feeling of apathy that plunged into his chest was usually signal enough. However, the prickling of the quiet wind on his bare arms was certainly different. The tips of his ears were moist with the thin sleet that drifted across his boyish face. He was in a place not freezing, but the hint of a winter was nipping at him like the ice droplets that evaporated on his warm skin.

Aisen opened his eyes. Sure enough, he was standing on a mound of some kind. The expanse of white snow drifted around all corner s of his vision. It almost strained his eyes with the sheets that provided a dull glow of light over the tundra. There was no sound. No tremors on the ground. It was a void of winter that sorrounded him and the tiny hill like a sailor marooned on a deserted island.

Aisen sighed to himself. _Another weird dream._

He admitted he was worried when the dreams would return. His active imagination always caused vivid ones to breach into his consciounse. These were different dreams. He might as well have been transported mid-sleep into another world. Even when he woke up, the after-effects of the dreams on his body were still felt. Ever since the beginning of the year, they grew more and more vivid.

However, they had stopped after the fight with Ebony. He knew not to be lulled into a false sense of security. The dreams would be back like a bad sunburn that stung well after the power of the sun collided with his skin. He had tried to remain calm, hopeful that the trouble would dissipated like the coal surrounding the calming fireplace flickering in the Common Room.

Aisen stared ahead. He heard his heartbeat pulsing in his ears. His eyes already watered from the raw cold drying his pupils.

 _Why am I here?_

 _You should know._

Aisen 's breath hitched in the still air. A mist pillowed out of his mouth; the warm breath melding into the frigid prison. The voice was certainly a male's. It was very similar to the one earlier on in the month. However, the slight lisp in his voice put Aisen at ease. It was a soothing, relaxed voice much akin that hinted of wise adages years above his own. That, or the levels of pertinaciousness were rising as the mounds of snow billowed down onto the ground.

 _How should I know?_

 _Was not everything explained earlier this month?_

 _Not really, strange voice guy. Could you help?_

 _I wouldn't mind helping. I am searching for something. I know you are as well._

 _I guess. But it's just to makes sure no one takes it._

 _My purpose is to take this object. Do you think you could give it to me?_

 _I don't know where it is._

 _If you did, would you give it to me?_

 _I don't know you._

 _I think you do, Aisen Yuki._

As if someone flicked a switch in a crowded dormitory room, the light shuttered away. Remaining white fragments strobed in Aisen's sight as the dark replaced any semblance of life. Even the snow and cold disappeared like a wizard had just shuttered it into a Vanishing Cabinet. Now, there was truly nothing and Aisen could not even see his limbs. Yet, Aisen remained calm as he still felt the ground strong and true underneath him.

 _Did you turn off the snow?_

 _In fact, I did Aisen. Or maybe I didn't. You can turn it back on if you want._

Aisen did. Once he thought about retunring the past image back to it's previous status, the tundra popped back into being around him. His body jolted at the weather, so he decided it was best to turn off the cold around him. The setting was the same, but he was no longer cold.

 _Wait. I'm standing in this frozen place, but I'm not cold. Am I dead?_

 _As alive as I am, Aisen. This is a land where your fantasies are only as limited as your mind. Your life is as meaningful as the world you create that revolves around you. This is a place where you'll always be satisfied, and your imagination never dies._

 _But that's not possible. This is just a dream._

 _It is a dream, Aisen. But have you not been living in dreams since your parents left? Since the burden of your sister was cast on your's and your aunt's shoulders? You can be yourself here and not have to worry about anything like discomfort._

 _That sounds great, but if I wake up, I'll be in Hogwarts._

 _True. You can choose to not wake up. To help me achieve my goal. I can guarantee you will be in this world forever. A much better world than the one that awaits you beyond your bed._

Aisen propped his head up and stared up at the charcoal sky. The clouds swirled above like translucent snakes sliding across the obscured sky.

 _I have a test tomorrow, sir._

 _Oh. I understand. Then why don't you solve the issue of your test and then you can join me tomorrow._

 _Well, I still can't bring you the ring. I know you're trying to bring a very bad guy back to live._

 _And such is the purpose of which I am cursed with._

 _That sucks. But I would like to be back here! It seems like fun!_

 _Good. Every time you slumber, you shall return to this lucid world. Of which, you will find much harder to resist leaving each time. Until finally, you and I merge to claim the missing ring. Then, our mission will be complete, and we can forever enjoy this world where your dreams are never a fantasy._

 _Thank you, but I don't really want to do the last part._

 _I understand. You must know that the magic of souls is something I am very familiar with. It may take time for you to be accepting, but you will be soon. After all, the souls of all human are invariably used to connect with each other. Regardless of whether you realize it, your bond with every human being on this planet will lead you back into one and another. Before finally, We return to our master, and the process to where we can meld the souls of the world and reclaim this planet is complete._

Aisen switched the lights off.

 _Do you mind if I bring a few friends to meet you soon?_

 _I suspect the other souls that have been chosen as protectors. That is a decision you must make, if you are willing to burden their lives over this._

* * *

The month fluttered by the magical caste of Hogwarts like the rustling peach leaves escaping their branches. They sashayed in the brisk autumn wind like the swinging hammocks tied to the sturdy oak bases; students dozing in them to defray the stress of their daily classes and lives. The changing colors matched the wave of cool that descended on the castle, evident by the cacophony of knitted sweaters and sweatpants that the students walked around when not dressed in their uniforms.

For the castle, the lethargic fall afternoon floated by as the sun rowed across the cerulean sky. Puffed clouds flickered past and occasionally dropped a spat of shade onto the ground. From higher up on the castle, the pristine green lawns of manicured grass blades tufted to the ground from the random footsteps of shoes crossing over the fields. The students roamed with little purpose, and there was little need for any rush to go to any area.

So there Erin sat in her robes, by a window at the very edge of the library. Deep sunlight poured through the window and brought a gleam to the glass in front of her.

Smack!

Erin jumped at the mug slamming onto the desk. Sloshing coffee lapped over the rim of the porcelain mug, steam still billowing from the surface of the mixture. Broken from her dreaming gaze out the window, he saw Calista falling onto the chair in front of him with a huff, her normal stern expression showing frustration. A stack of three worn books cracked onto the spot next to the mug, and she flicked open the ruby cover of the top one. Her slim finger pointed down onto one particular page, gazing up at Erin to see if he was paying attention.

"Decaf?" Calista asked him, pointing at the mug.

"You almost got my hand burnt!"

The Ravenclaw took off the black robes revealing a dark indigo cable-knit sweater that spelled serious business to Erin. With her poised posture upright in the chair, she seemed like the dictionary definition of a studious scholar. As she leafed through the pages on the old book, Erin stroked her cheek and noticed just how cold his face was despite the warmth of the sunlight.

"You know Aristotle?" Calista asked.

"Who?"

Calista shook her head. "He was a philosopher. From Ancient Greece. Really smart guy. He knew his stuff. Although I always found his views on the unconscious capabilities of dreams and souls to be too eastern new wave for my tastes."

Erin blinked. The last thing she needed was overcomplicated garble. "Can we just get it over with about this gossip stuff. I've been trying to figure out what's been happening for too long."

"So Aristotle had some ideas about what we are talking about. Dreams. Memories. All of that stuff you've been talking about with some of the others. So, souls. In his treatise on them, he refers to three different kinds of souls," she said as she turned the book over to Erin.

She looked down at the wall of words that combed down the pages. It was far too dense for her tastes.

"Vegetative, sensible, and rational," Calista said as she thumped her finger on the book. "The different kinds of souls. Plants are vegetative; they are only focused on reproduction and growth. Kinda like most of the students at this school. Then, there is sensible. These are the souls of animals that contain the hallmarks of mobility and sensibility. Then, there are humans. Us. Capable of thought and reflection."

"So the things that have been trying to attack those seven people," Erin leaned forward. "Are they real souls?"

"Maybe from another life or plane of existence," Calista said. "But they aren't humans. Not anymore. They are programmed like robots to serve whatever function the being that controls them sets."

"What are those?"

Calista raised an eyebrow.

"Robots. What are tho-."

"Oh, right," Calista waved her hand. "Muggle term. Anyway, the dreams you think are memories is interesting, because Aristotle also referred to dreams as an unconscious sensation without need for stimuli. That means that dreaming is one of the few ways you can perceive something that you have never perceived before or even something that has yet to exist."

Calista closed the book in front of Erin. "I say this because I think the next sin is luring you all by dreams. Aristotle also came up with the original blueprint for the seven deadly sins. He actually listed seven virtues of human beings and morality. Then, he listed about two negative aspects or sins that could come from those things. For example, bravery and courage can easily be turned into arrogance. I think we've seen that quite clearly in this castle."

Erin shrugged her shoulders. "So what does this have to do with anybody? Are you hooking up with Leonhardt or not?"

"Is everything about gossip to you?"

"Calista."

The serious girl rubbed a hand through her brow and groaned. "Alistair is tough. He's been very different the past month. Not willing to divulge anything like he did before. And most people are noticing. With his new arm and all. The best thing to do is get closer to him and see if anything dribbles out. If he was infatuated with me before, then returning the favor could be used to my advantage to finding this thing."

Erin scoffed and wore a small smirk. "Calista, that's not right. Faking a relationship with Alistair Leonhardt? Even after what happened to him? Something you still won't tell me all the details of?"

Calista rolled her eyes. I'm not faking anything. I never said I'd do anything serious with him. I'm saying that maybe I just make things interesting for him. He's a sucker, Erin. And if I need to bat my eyelashes a few times to save this school, I'll do it. It's not like those other seven will be able to. We're doomed otherwise."

At this, mounting footsteps slid to a halt right before them. Erin let out a noise as Gryffindor robes waved around in a frantic run that stopped by their table. Edmund, red-faced and flustered, huffed with his hair oddly messy. His chest heaving, he pointed out towards the exit of the library.

"I need you all to see something."

Calista tilted her head. "What's the problem?"

Edmund sputtered. "Aisen...he-he's as-heh...he's asleep!"

An exchange of stares.

"You'll have to be a bit more specific," Calista said.

Edmund took a breath to regain his thoughts. "Just come with me. The others are on their way."

* * *

"Mister Burghley?"

Robbie's head shot up. His gasp was heard throughout the entire classroom, and he waved his head around as he saw everybody staring back at him in the class.

"Are you well, sir?"

Robbie looked up at Flitwick. He blinked, a small bead of sweat dabbing the fringe of his forehead. His face twisted in unease, he adjusted the tie around his neck and unbuttoned the top part of his dress shirt. His eyes heavy, he snatched his leather bag next to his chair and strung it over his broad shoulder. Shooting to his feet, he massaged his throat and gathered up his wand in his hand.

"Throat, sir."

Flitwick nodded at him and waved him off. Robbie took a few quick strides like a frog zooming across a tranquil pond. Battering the stone steps of the ampitheater-styled classroom, he kept his head down and exited into the hallway.

Stress was something Robbie found hard to deal with. For his blustering confidence and charm that he believed he delivered the world, the past month had been difficult. His face was noticeable slimmer at the chin area. It was a little more angular, and his robes were found to flutter around his body as he walked down the breezeways, the wind billowing the now larger robes on him. Even the slight stubble that poked his chin and neck area were clear indicators that something was wrong.

He paced in a costive manner up the stairs, his eyes fixated on the marble walkways. His face blank and slightly paled, he trudged up the steps with his arms limp at his side, their definition just ever-so-thinner than normal. He could not stand class for the time being. He knew people were watching him to see if anything would happen next.

Cas was not dealing with the nightmares and anxiety of being attacked by a secret werewolf much better. He stayed in the shadows mainly throughout the day. At night, he would sulk in his room. Robbie had tried to keep his bravado. Sadly, he found little energy to continue the charade.

People had whispered about the issue as they normally did at Hogwarts. Gryffindors were upset that the man that got them so many Quidditch and House Cups was suddenly shying from the spotlight as the season turned to Quidditch. He had not even scheduled try-outs, and the social man had not uttered more than a whisper in the typical gossip sessions that plagued the Common Room couch on a daily basis. Even his posture was more slouched, his shoulders slogging down like an awkward nerd.

He stopped by the corner towards the Gryffindor entrance. Sleeping in the middle of the day was a refuge for him, and he hoped that a small nap could alleviate his nerves.

Robbie stopped in the middle of the hallway. He turned and looked over at the window that overlooked the Lake outside. A compelling force made his legs move over towards the window. He made it to the ledge and saw the tranquil dark waters swashing over the battered, seaweed-choked grey rocks on the sand-lined shore.

Robbie sighed and leaned on the marble bust next to the windowsill. It was a bust of Harry Potter at age seventeen. It was only a year away for Robbie. His head rested on the base of the skull, and he stared out at the quiet landscape of the Scottish hills.

"You lot put a lot on a man that's still alive."

Robbie closed his eyes and straightened up his stance.

"At least wait until he's gone until you start to worship him. What if Potter is caught in some strange sex scandal?"

Robbie turned around and glared at the blonde man worse for the ware. His metal arm glinted in the inviting sunlight that draped the entryway to Gryffindor's House.

"You're stupider than I thought," Robbie said with fake gusto. He almost cringed with how insincere he sounded. "Or did you forget that Slytherin's sleep in the basement?"

"Dungeons."

"Do I look like I'm in the mood for you, Leonhardt?"

Alistair sighed. He walked up towards the taller man, who had decided to simply look back out the window in hopes he would go away. Instead, Alistair leaned his back on the wall by the opposite side of the window. He propped up a leg and cocked his head up to face the ceiling.

The month had been a blur for Alistair. He had garnered a new streak of attention to himself, but he was uneasy very time people spied his new appendage. Small circles of darkened skin had formed under his eyes, noticeable just from the bright sunlight that bore into the small nook he sat. His hair had even grown out a tad as well, slightly more unkempt and not as neatly shaped in it's typical form.

He tried very hard to maintain his normal self, but that seemed to fall to the wayside. People had noticed immediately when he entered school the next day. For a week, he dealt with whispers and rumors zapping him around the castle like the static electricity built up after shuffling his feet over the old library carpet. Surprisingly, few had come up to ask him about it. He assumed his professors had made it a point to get them off his back, but the eyes bore upon him like the heat from the blankets that he swaddled himself in at night. Some had even planted the idea into other student's heads that he had attempted to perform some sort of dark magic to enhance his chances of getting the treasure still thought to be hidden in Hogwarts. As much as he hated that idea, he had little energy to shut it down.

His grades were not fairing much better, either. They were about the same as before, which Alistair knew was because his professors were cutting him slack. He was doing less and less work by the day. His movements were slower, slinking down the hallway with his head almost buried into his robes.

"Rough month?"

Robbie grunted.

Alistair almost snorted at the brutish answer. He breathed out and kept his gaze locked on a stray cobweb that hung slack on the edge of the ceiling and the opposing wall.

"I got my arm cut off by some horny vampire bitch and now have to protect the Wizarding World from a shitty ring," Alistair said.

"I was attacked and blackmailed by a secret werewolf and my sister might be killed at any moment by that same ring."

"Mondays, am I right?"

Robbie frowned at Alistair, who now had closed his eyes. "Leonhardt, what do y-."

Alistair reared his head towards Robbie to cut him off. "We need to talk about this."

Robbie felt his eye twitch. "And how is that supposed to help anything? All of our lives on your shoulders including me and my sisters?"

"I didn't ask for that, Robbie," Alistair spoke with a weak voice. "And I'm not exactly thrilled by this any more than you are. I just wanted this treasure to clear Slytherin's name of always being the bad guy. I didn't think it would do this."

"Fucking liar," Robbie said. He took a step forward towards Alistair. Robbie found himself a little surprised when the Slytherin faced him, only to see that his tired face was somewhat fear-ridden. His normally bright green eyes were dimmer and flickered around in a frantic, panicked sense as Robbie approached him. However, he thought it a trick of the mind as his hands balled into fists.

"It was," Alistair said.

"Fucking moron," Robbie growled. "You did it so you could get laid by every girl in the castle, you gross man-whore. You probably have a disease by now with all you've been doing."

Alistair took the insult and furrowed his eyebrows together. "Like you're any better. I heard you talking to your circle-jerk of friends about how you'd find it and have a statue made in your honor."

Robbie grabbed Alistair by the collar and yanked him closer to him. Alistair seemed even smaller than before as Robbie gnashed his teeth to wear spit hit Alistair's face.

"And now you have my sister roped into this! You think I'll let you off easy for one second? I should've been hexing you into the next decade every day for the past month. But I can't because McGonagall has every professor watching you like a hawk, like you're somebody special. Like you're a chosen one.

"Everyone wanted it," Alistair said with a small tremor. "And they still do! You hear them talking about it everyday. They don't know what it is and they don't get what we're i-."

"I do," Robbie shook Alistair. "I've dealt with your shitty pranks and seeing your stupid ass face for six years, Leonhardt. I'm gonna make your life hell for the rest of your life if I have anything to do with it. I'll make you wish you had died in that dungeon if it means that I don't need to worry about you messing up my life anymore, you pathetic, Slytherin piece of sh-."

Clink.

Robbie froze when he felt the cool metal resting on his right wrist.

He ceased the shaking and lowered his gaze towards the artificial limb. It was surreal to feel it, almost as if he had invaded upon a very intimate moment in somebody's life. Next to it, Alistair's face was struggling to get proper breath. His eyes were very different from the ones Robbie had loathed to see glint with mischief during their normal spots. These eyes were shy, unsure, and they were fearful. The past month had been so difficult, he had forgotten that, indeed, Alistair had lost his arm and did fight off an evil spirit.

Awash with guilt, Robbie released his grasp. Alistair lowered his arms and tried to regulate his breathing. He adjusted his clothes and brushed it free of any wrinkles. Robbie stared at him as Alistair forced his limbs to stop shaking.

For a few moments, they stood in silence. They tried to avoid eye contact, but there was an odd, almost comforting reverie as they tried to regain composure from their near fight.

"Are yo...you...okay?"

Alistair blinked. "You mean am I okay now? Or have I been okay for the last month?"

"Does it hurt? Like...when I grabbed you there?" Robbie asked.

Alistair said nothing and looked out the window.

Robbie blew out a breath. He felt weird that he was trying to act so amicable towards the Slytherin, but something seemed so pathetic, so broken to Robbie that he felt no need to compact it onto him. No, pathetic was the wrong word. He was more haunted. Almost traumatized.

As horrible as he felt most Slytherins were in general, he figured that having one's arm chopped off was not advantageous to being an evil wizard of darkness. Unless Alistair was that vain that he wanted his own identity, he could not help but feel a sense of pity for him.

"I don't think it's my arm. Or what she did."

Robbie looked over at Alistair, who maintained his pensive look beyond the horizon of the castle ground. Robbie fluffed up his collar and waited for him to continue.

"But what she said about me. She said things I heard before, but it...feels like something now, you know? It made me rethink things. And I...I need to do some things different. That's all."

Robbie uncrossed his arms and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I...uh...haven't sleep much. From what me and Lacie have gone through. And I just want her safe."

The sixth years stood in silence, the whistling breeze wafting by outside the tall exterior of the Gryffindor tower entrance.

"So a werewolf?"

"I can't say much else," Robbie stammered. "Don't ask."

Alistair could not help the small chuckle. "Well, let em know when I get near him so I don't get bit," he said as he turned towards the Grey Lady.

"Leonhardt."

Alistair turned and saw Robbie, who for some reason stood taller and had a more airy sense of confidence electrify him. His arms crossed, his head tilted upward as if he were looking down at him.

"Quidditch is coming up."

Alistair blinked. It had completely slipped his mind. He figured his priorities had changed somewhat over the last month.

"I guess it is."

"And you're our first match. You and Slytherin."

Alistair raised an eyebrow. Robbie sighed, then he unfurled his arms and pointed a slender finger at him.

"We're going to beat you."

Alistair stared back at him. It was almost as if things were normal again. He felt warmth re-emerge in his face as he caught onto the schoolyard antics.

"Really?" Alistair said in a stronger voice.

"Crush you," Robbie said. "It'll be two hundred to nil. Guarantee it. So enjoy your pity party while it lasts, Leonhardt. I'm not going easy on you."

Alistair put on a small, assured smile. A smile he had not worn in quite a few weeks. "I guess this brings up a great opportunity for both of us. I get to be a comeback story, and you get to say you were beaten by a man with only one arm."

Robbie chuckled and waved off Alistair's taunt. For some reason, he did not feel as pissed off as before at him. Even before the year, he could not fathom spending more than a minute in a room by himself with Alistair before trying to snap the kid into two pieces. Yet, here he was engaging in the usual, almost playful banter.

"By the way," Alistair said to a confused Robbie. "Could you let me in your dorm? Somethings going on and I have to do my job of saving the school."

* * *

 **We're back!**

 **So just a bit of an update to get things swinging again! I'm glad you could rejoin us, and I hope you will continue to do so!**

 **I hope you didn't mind the break I took. I have done quite a few things recently, and I needed "me time" if you will. But please REVIEW! It's so important, and I need it for motivation to continue onward!**

 **What did you think of this? Did you learn much? What is going on in Aisen's head? Is Calista becoming a morally ambiguous Katniss Everdeen? Did you think Robbie and Alistair saw eye-to-eye for once? Did you enjoy anything? If so, why? If not, let me know! I enjoy all comments and criticisms!**

 **And yes, continue to send in OCS, fanart, and any suggestions you would like! I am open to hearing it all.**

 **Thank you. See you soon!**


	19. Buried in Dreams

Thud!

Callie cringed at the loud slam of the old book cover onto the thin sheets of parchment. She twirled a piece of her hair with a slim, fragile finger. With a small tremble, she blushed as Warren pulled up a chair and sat down right next to her. However, they were sitting in the ktichen instead of the library. Callie had mentioned how it was usually quieter at this time of day from the library. With that, she took Warren there with the intent to study their situation.

At the warm oak table by a dormant oven, Warren raised an eyebrow at Callie's blush. "You okay?"

Callie gulped. "You're just really close to me."

Warren scooted an inch away in his chair.

Callie opened up the book to put away the odd situation. "So we still haven't found anything similar to our situation. You'd think someone would have documented it."

"Yes, but he was the first one that did this," Warren said. "Splitting your soul into seven pieces. Even if he wasn't the first to kill that many times, he was the first to bother making that many horcruxes."

"It's still weird magic," Callie said. "And I don't like it. But I think you're important because it actually is in your family lineage."

"That's why Calista attacked me," Warren said. "She knew how important I was to it."

"Yes, and the other stuff with the werewolf."

"Hmm."

Callie looked over at Warren. "You know I don't care, right? I mean, you're still the same Warren I know a...well, I've known you for only a little bit, but I don't think of you any different. And I guess I just want to get to know you. As a person. It might help with the hunt for the ring, but even then. I...I just would rather know more. So we can understand better."

Warren stared down at the pages of the Ancient Runes textbook in silence. Being around Calista was awkward enough, but they both had come to a mutual understanding that it was best kept a secret. Warren would not know what he would do if his news was spread, and Calista would also be remiss in letting the school know she used an Unforgivable Curse on another fellow student. Now, he was simply angry that his ring was still in the annals of the school, guarded by who-knows-what.

"There was an old squib that lived next door to us. Back when I was younger. Old drunk. Loser. But he traveled the whole world before any of that. So my father went over to his house. He heard the squib had an old photograph, a muggle photograph, of my father with Bellatrix Lestrange."

Callie tried her best to stifle out an audible gasp. Her blood ran thinner in her veins as her limbs shook like the swinging chandelier above them. Arms as weak as spaghetti, she stared with her eyes as wide as the dinner plates hanging on invisible clothesline above the bubbling sinks behind them. She tried her best to ignore all of the ugly history of the past decade.

In all honesty, Callie was a girl that tried to ignore most bad things. Whenever the students conversed about anything related to dark magic, she clasp her ears shut. The topic of the Wizarding War would rage on in History of Magic class. Crouched in the back of the room, she scribbled a list of the Mesopotamian magical sarcophagi to distract from the lessons about Lord Voldemort. However, she knew enough that the lady mentioned was bad news.

"We had no association with them," Warren spat out. "We did what we could to scrub it. That day, he went into the squib's house. And he found it just this summer."

Warren looked over at Callie with an apathetic gaze. His grey eyes betrayed no emotion but fatigue as he slumped his broad shoulders.

"I always felt an attachment to it. Even when I was a kid, I knew something had been taken from me. When I asked him about it, he finally told me about my bloodline and why I felt so empty without it. And it's funny," Warren said as he walked back towards the table. "I felt that urge every full moon. The urge that I needed to get whatever was missing from me and stop anything that gets in my way."

Warren stopped by Callie and looked down at her. She appeared to be such an innocent girl; he almost felt bad that she was put into this situation. He sighed. Feeling bad for people was pointless. All it would do was cause him to feel some more emotion for people that did not deserve it.

"Can I ask something really personal?"

"Is it about how I became a werewolf?

Callie looked over at Warren, his apathetic expression shifting into one of weariness. His shoulders straightened up and he peered down at the girl with a head tilt.

"I don't know," Warren said. "I remember one day that summer of fourth to fifth year going to sleep. Then, I remember waking up the day after that tomorrow. A whole day just empty in my mind. Don't remember who it was or why they did it. Or if they even wanted to."

"But people treated you different," Callie said. "I remember people always wanting to talk about you."

Warren turned over to Callie. "How so?"

Callie gave off the ghost of a smile. "Well, you were really popular with the girls. They'd always go on about how big and strong you were."

"You're lying. Stop it."

"I'm serious," Callie said. "You asked what they talked about when they talked about you. I know Alistair was talked about by the girls here a lot, but you were probably the most mentioned after him. And I guess I just saw how unlike him you were, and I wondered why that was."

Warren could not help the small grunted in his throat. "Well, even if that is true, they talk for a different reason now," Warren said thinking about the scars on his face.

"Yes, but that's also the case with Alistair."

Just as Warren blinked and took in that connecting revelation, which he had to admit was an undeniable good point, the door opened up.

Laila glared at the two in front of her, as if she is questioning why it is so odd that they are in the kitchen.

"What're you doing here?"

Laila stopped by the counter of coffee beans. "I come here every night. One of the House elves makes my macchiato before I sleep."

Stopping by a pot, Laila poured herself out a cup of the drink. She magicked a mug towards herself and filled it. She drew a short gulp of it and set it down on the counter. Leaning on it, she stared over at the other two. "I really envy the ghosts in this castle sometimes."

"They're undead beings," Warren said deadpan.

"So are most of the students in this castle," Laila said. "But they don't have to be worried about pain or responsibilities or shit like that. We have to clean up everyone else's mess."

Laila sighed before she drank again. "I've been wondering about things the past month, though. About why we were picked. Honestly, I have no ducking idea except for Warren. It's obvious since it's apparently his ring."

Warren grunted.

"But whatever," Laila said as she set down her cup with a clatter onto the floor. "It's not like I could beat this evil spirit thingie."

"So you're going to give up when it comes to you?" Callie asked. "Just roll over despite all the sacrifices made?"

"I didn't ask for those sacrifices," Laila responded. "And that doesn't make the cause any better or worse. A lot of people died for Voldemort."

Callie cringed at the words. "Don't say th-."

"Or what?" Laila teased. "He's going to come and kill me?"

Laila smirked to herself as she headed for the door. Reaching for the golden handle, she paused and turned back over to the other two. Laila could not help the small, dark giggle under her breath.

"I wish I was that lucky."

* * *

"It's not my color."

Audrey rolled her eyes as she threw the periwinkle jacket into the heap of rejected clothes in the wardrobe. "You should be focused on other things, Lacie. And how is periwinkle not your color? That's close to purple, isn't it?"

"Ravenclaw is not purple, it's lilac," Lacie said as she examined her hair in the mirror, touching up any ends that stood up from the humidity. "Besides, I have to be ready at a moment's notice. If I have to save the castle, I can't look ugly."

Lacie, unlike some of the others, had taken the news of protecting a ring in stride. True, she was a major fan of jewelry, and she would be more than happy to stop some ancient forces of evil destroy it. However, she saw it as a great chance to poke out from the shadows left behind by her siblings to be visible to her parents.

In the Ravenclaw dormitory, Lacie sat on the soft papasan chair that rolled right by the vanity mirror. The white nightstand underneath it had a myriad of different tubes and dishes carrying all of her beauty products. With the sun illuminating the room from the bay windows, the view of the castle grounds was ignored while she ignited her wand and placed it by the mirror for lighting to eradicate the sun's shadows. Rows of beds with privacy awnings lined the walls with neat, large wardrobes for every female right next to the beds.

Lacie did not want to say she was jealous of her brother or her older sister that was long-graduated from Hogwarts. There was a large void of talent that she felt knock at her shoulder for no reason. She did not deserve it, she thought to herself as she applied a small bit of mascara onto her trimmed eyelashes. Maybe she had been vainer than she should have been.

Lacie huffed to herself once she dropped the mascara and reached for her compact. She had never made any major mistakes in her life. She did not step out of line, break any rules, and she was overall a nice girl. She deserved no punishment or criticism from anybody. Just because she liked clothes and money and the like did not make her evil or a schoolgirl bully. At least, she was not as much a bully as Robbie could be at times.

For the most part, she put the problems in the back of her mind. She rubbed some foundation onto her face which tickled her slightly upturn nose just a smidge. She felt quite capable with the wand, and she thought that some evil spirit trying to kill her was something that could be handled with the help of the others involved. If only to make Robbie run away as she saved the day. She grinned to herself.

"Robbie flipped out at me last week again."

Audrey looked up from the textbook on her bed as she read it on her stomach. "For what?"

Lacie huffed again. "My parents are really giving us pressure. They basically made it his job to spy on me for the last month. He was upset that I missed curfew by like five minutes on Friday."

Audrey brushed back a strand of loose hair and watched Lacie apply her makeup. "He cares about you."

"He cares about being the hero," Lacie said. "I mean, I know he cares about me. He doesn't want me to die, but I'm still in the way of him being the school's savior. He's a lot stricter and rigid now. Not to mention, my parents demand owls from me every other day."

"You'd think they could afford private bodyguards," Audrey joked. "Especially since your father is the Minister."

"Believe me, they're around," Lacie said while applying moisturizer to a cotton ball. "I'm not to worried about any of it. I'd rather not have to deal with this, but maybe this is a chance to get them off my back."

"My parents are happy if Alistair demonstrates his ability to read or write properly," Audrey said with a chuckle. "Maybe you should tell your parents to lower their standards like mine."

Lacie sighed. She looked back at Audrey and gave off an apprehensive expression. "Those dreams are coming back, you know. And that feeling, too. The ones we all got before that girl took Alistair."

Audrey's smile dropped like a speck of dust cascading down in the windo's sunbeams. "The feeling of being...?"

"Incomplete," Lacie finished. "Like we need something really bad. Almost like an addiction. And I think it means this thing is coming for us again soon. We don't have any plan of action."

Audrey tensed up. She sat up and smoothed out the wrinkled on the chartreuse bed comforter. "But I know you can protect yourself. You're pretty good at DADA, right?"

"Not as good as a seventh year," Lacie said while gesturing at Audrey. "But whatever we did in the dungeons, we'll just have to do again. Plain and simple."

Audrey paused and gazed at the cuckoo clock ticking away by her bedpost. "So, Lacie. I know it's a lot to ask..."

Lacie noticed Audrey's small blush as she capped up the bottle of lotion in her lap. She tilted her head, non-verbally asking what the issue was at hand.

"Alistair, I joke a lot about him being stupid. And he's not, but...I know he's not the best wizard. Intellectually, I mean. I've seen his grades for DADA and charms, and I don't think he could save his own life."

"But in the dun-."

"I know," Audrey cut her off. "But I know that wasn't just Alistair. There's no way he could have been hiding those skills from me. I would have known. So whatever caused him to act like that, I don't trust it happening again."

Lacie breathed out a sigh. Just another thing to add onto her shoulders. She blinked and shrugged off a small smile at Audrey.

"It's no problem. And I'll make sure one of the others can help protect him as well."

Audrey blew out a warmth breath before stretching her arm. "My brother is causing a lot of stress with people, isn't he?"

Lacie chuckled. She rose to her feet and sauntered across the purple carpet towards her open wardrobe. "Just on of the things we have in common. A shame fashion sense wasn't one of them. Try this on, it'll be better for you."

* * *

Aisen looked around himself. Yet again, he knew he was asleep.

"Great. What's the poison this time?" Aisen thought to himself as he looked at his surroundings. This time, he was in a plain green meadow. The vivid, ivy grass swayed with a soft breeze rolling over the gentle hills that hugged the cerulean sky above. A few puffed clouds floated past with the strong scent of sunflowers from a patch on the precipice of the horizon.

This is a pleasant place, isn't it?

Aisen looked up at the sky. The sun blotted the sea of blue, arching high up above him like a spotlight above a stage actor. Despite this, the rays were not pounding down on him. Instead, a comforting warmth akin to a wool blanket on a winter's afternoon with sleet falling outdoors breathed over him.

"What do you want?" Aisen said in an annoyed voice. "I'm just trying to sleep."

But you've been asleep Aisen. For a while now.

Aisen descended his gaze down to his feet. His black dress sneakers were buried in the thick grass, apparently untouched by any humans. A small ladybug scurried on the edge of a blade by his right toe. It's wings flickered as the black spots flashed underneath the sun's power.

Didn't you have a good dream earlier today, Aisen?

"I did," he said in a soft tone. "I dreamed that my parents were alive again. And my sister was not so scared about anything."

That is not your reality.

"No, it isn't."

But it could be if you stayed here. You could have whatever you want.

Aisen traced a finger down the cheeks of his face. His life had become overly complicated ever since that night in the dungeons. He noticed how teachers were watching his every move. McGonnagall had scheduled special lessons for them to begin within the next couple of weeks without excusing them from current school work. And since that day he had returned from the dungeons, he had begun to felt it again. That dull throbbing that cackled inside his chest like a dull roll of thunder. It grew harsher every day, almsot as if it reset itself after one of the sins were vanquished.

He had more trouble sleeping at night, but his dreams were more vivid than ever. However, instead of the blurred memories that had taken them over, they were of what he wanted. And it was a welcome reprieve from reality. The truth was, Aisen had little contact with any of his other friends in the month. Perhaps they were all still awkward about being connected in this way. A pang of guilt stabbed Aisen's heart whenever he saw Alistair and his new arm; a reminder of how he had to be saved by the Slytherin. He had not even spoken his appreciation.

Even Edmund was more distant than ever. He did not sit with him in the Great Hall, focusing on lunches by himself to possibly study up on the things attacking them.

Then, his sister. His little sister that was still completely clueless. Her first year at Hogwarts, and he was already in danger and her as well. She was still having trouble being safe and not alone.

With that, it dawned on Aisen. He felt alone. A single hiker standing in an empty field. He was lost to time and place with the elements of nature as his only companion.

The debate raged in him. He spied the ladybug flying away in the corner of his eye.

"My dreams. Can they be my reality instead? The reality where me and my sister are happy? And my parents can see that?"

The only imitations are your own imagination, Aisen. Would you like to see them again?

"I would."

Would you like to wake up?

Aisen gave no reply.

And he didn't want to.

Except he did.

A tiny shake of his head.

* * *

Just as Calista and Erin where entering the Gryffindor Common Room, they saw Edmund collapse to the floor.

In the kitchen, Callie was in mid-bite of her scone when she slumped over and smacked her head on the table.

Warren reached over to help her, but then a powerful wave of magic forced him to drop like a rag doll onto the kitchen floor.

Laila had just approached the Hufflepuff entrance when an overwhelming urge to rest deposited her by a marble bust, her head thunking onto the base of the pillar.

Just as Lacie opened up the door to her closet, she fell over into the mound of discarded shirts and pants on the bottom of the tall oak wardrobe.

* * *

"I don't feel so good."

Robbie uncrossed his arms and raised his body from leaning on the wall. Alistair, frozen in mid-step towards the Gryffindor entrance, groaned out.

Alistair face-planted onto the marble hallway bottom.

* * *

When he opened his eyes, they watered from the dirt that blew into them.

Alistair squeezed them shut as he rolled over to an upright position. he groaned out as specs of grime embedded into the corners of his eyes. They watered, and he blinked with the speed of an old camera shutter to rid his vision of debris. He brushed off the earth that clung to his skin, and he swiped around his face for any remaining bits that would hurt him.

Sensing his face clean, he opened his emerald eyes and stared out into the strange place he was deposited. They widened with shock, his mouth forming a near perfect circle as he took in the sight before him. It was a city, much older in appearance than he had seen in many years. The old, middle aged architecture gave the houses and buildings a brown, worn European look that matched the cobblestone street he had landed. Most of the buildings were joined together; the only gaps in them were the streetways that led around this massive town. The gutters had cocoa ridges that solidified the perimeter of the houses.

In fact, Alistair noticed, everything seemed to have a very thick, noticeable outline. The charcoal walls of the buildings had auburn, slanted rooftops. Some of which smoldered with destruction as pillars of smoke billowed up the dull daytime sky. Alistair could hear fires roaring in the distance along with screaming and a few crashes.

Alistair reached towards his chest, feeling a little relieved at feeling a bump; the outline of the crystal that would protect him. However, he noticed it remained dormant in his chest. No pulse, no warmth, no voice that connected with his head.

A roaring crash.

Alistair felt it vibrate through his being. With a shout, he scrambled up to his feet and looked both ways down the abandoned street. Whatever was happening, ti was the middle of a major war or fight. Windows were blown out. Glass and abandoned bags were strewn along the poorly-made roads. He squinted, spying a ginormous barrier many miles down the road. It almost appeared to be a major wall that blocked off the street end.

"Is this America?" Alistair asked to himself.

 _No, it's his dreams._ A voice said in Alistair's head.

"Who was that?"

 _His dreams. You're in them._

Just then, he heard shouting. Two or three men, and a female were yelling just around the street corner a block from where he stood.

Alistair began a light jog over the cobblestone towards the voices. Whoever they were, he needed to figure out what was happening right then and there. Where was he? Why was he in a battle? Was the the past or future? Why was the crystal not working? And why were his clothes itching him like newly-furbished leather?

It was at this point that Alistair noticed his clothes. While pacing forward, he felt the tight, grey pants held to his person with straps around his thighs. With a white long-sleeve shirt clasped to him by another latch around his chest, he felt the tough cloth of the beige jacket, almost like a crop top, that was worn over the top half of his torso. Finally, the black leather boots collided with the debris-ridden ground as he marched ahead. It was a strange get-up, but that was the least of Alistair's worries.

Reaching the corner, he stopped at the end to eavesdrop. He at least wanted to know what was going on in this instance.

"We can't let him go alive."

Alistair peeked around the corner. Huddled around the corner, Alistair peered at a tall man with short yellow hair pressing down on somebody in a tackle. His face plain, he was struggling as a kind, freckled-faced man with ink-black hair thrashed underneath him to no avail. Behind him, a shorter man with frazzled black hair jerked around to make sure others were not present. Alistair frowned to himself, wondering why those two were bullying that other guy. He also flickered his eyes down to his clothes, recognizing that all the people in this group were wearing the same uniform as himself. However, the other three had a strange metal box on either side of them with blunt objects he could only describe as dull swords clasped in holsters around their waists.

Facing away from Alistair, he noticed the back of a blonde girl, tensed up with her shoulders almost to her ears. She held a very interesting, almost familiar hair style as Alistair continued to watch the drama unfold.

"Take Marco's Vertical Maneuvering Gear off of him!"

A pause in the group. Alistair wondered if he should help. Perhaps that man pinned down did something awful to the others. Maybe this was a mugging. He needed to garner more information. Unfortunately, a strong gust of wind, one that swirled around more dirt and grime, caused Alistair to miss the next few sentences of the conversation. However, his gaze was still fixated on the back of the girl's head.

Once it died down, the other blonde on top of the man started to scream. "Have you started to feel compassion for this evil race?"

Alistair gasped. He had read online about America, hearing rumors of the great country being embroiled by a major debate about walls and race. Maybe this was a future where those fears told by people on the news were becoming reality.

"Prove me wrong right here! Are you different from this defiled race?"

The white knight in Alistair furrowed his brows in anger. He would not tolerate this low-level bullying. If someone was going to be picked on, he would much prefer it be for their House or their allegiance to certain wizards. Not race.

With a huff, he puffed up the collar on his odd jacket. He balled up his fists and ran around the corner. Just feet away, he stopped behind the shorter girl and planted himself firm in the sidewalk. The breeze through the street eased up just so Alistair could get a clear vie of the scrum in front of him. He cleared his throat and put on his bravest voice.

"Don't talk to him like that," Alistair shouted. "He's just coming here for a better life!"

The men stared in horror at him. Alistair could not help but give off a smirk at how he had intimidated him. He thought it was easy.

Then, he noticed the girl had not turned immediately around. She remained tense, but she kept her sight glued to the heap before her.

Alistair paid no mind and continued. "You need to treat him nicer. I mean, we have our immigration problems in Britain as well, and I guess he shouldn't be trying to come here illegally, but that doesn't make mugging this man right!"

The man behind the two on the ground stammered. "Wh-who are you? Are you in the 104th? This doesn't concern you!"

The strong man on top of the other boy, who had stopped his thrashing, sneered at Alistair. "You're making a mistake being here. Turn around and forget you saw this, or you're dead."

"Reiner, what do we do?"

"Shut up," the bigger man said. "Don't give away our names!"

"I don't think he knows anything though."

"There are other coming. We need to get rid of them both."

Alistair chuckled and crossed his arms. "I'm not fucking scared of you, you hillbillies. I've heard on the news all about you muggles causing messes like this. Well, it's not nice! This poor boy down there is just trying to make himself a bloody life, and you decide to be complete wankers about it! So, I suggest you stop this before I kick the shit out of you. And I know martial arts. And street-fighting. I know both methods of physical fighting, so don't even try me!"

Taking a step forward, Alistair felt resolve as the odd scene melted in the background. He smiled at the back of the girl's head. "What about you, love? You shouldn't be around idiots like these. How about we go somewhere safer and less...uh...ugly."

Alistair had not had the best month by any stretch. And perhaps he needed some bravado to make him feel more like his old self. He had to admit, seeing this group of people in such distress at him commanding the scene was making him feel good. It was almost like he was jabbing back at Robbie like normal. However, he had to know that, at this point, he should be prepared for the unexpected. Not only was Hogwarts filled with surprises, but everyday life was as well. And if that meant that he would have to watch out for anything that would attack and cause harm, he would do so.

One thing he was not prepared for was when the girl panned around as if she were on a slow revolving pedestal.

And into pale blue eyes Alistair stared. Completely dumbfounded.

 _Now do you believe_ , the voice said. _Welcome to Mister Yuki's world._

"I...what?"

The girl continued to stare back at Alistair in abject horror. Alistair returned the look in a state of confusion. If his mouth could drop to the floor like an old-fashioned cartoon character, it would have.

"Annie?"

The man known as Reiner let out a sound of confusion. "Uh...you know this guy? Annie?"

Alistair flashed a toothy smile at the familiar face. "Annie! How's it going? I was hoping to see you. But...uh...do you know where we are? And what are you doing to that guy? And why is my crystal not working? I think some voice is saying I'm in Aisen's dreams. Is that you? By the way, the uniform looks nice on you. Although it's kinda a mess on anybody else. Think you can help me with finding the others since we're all here th-."

With a flash of silver, the metal glinted in mid-air before slashing at Alistair's neck.

Alistair was wrong. The swords were not as dull as he thought.

* * *

So that was how Alistair had awoken back in the hospital wing again with a yell. And looking around at the six other occupied beds, he almost wanted to go back to sleep.

* * *

Welcome back!

So some odd things are happening. It appears this next sin is focusing on Aisen, and he is forcing his otaku habits on these poor students! They better brush up on their manga reading!

So please REVIEW and give me as much feedback as you can! Tell me what you think about everything! What will happen next? How crazy is this? Are you interested in what other cameos we might get? How does this tie into the story? Did you like the character interactions? Dialogue? Let me know!

Keep sending OCS! We are still open! And don't be discouraged if you don't see your OC yet or haven't seen them in a while! They will be around and seen, don't worry!

Keep reviewing! That is the motivation I need to give you an entertaining fic we can all be proud of! And spread word! Review, favorite, tell others to do the same! And hey, if you want to do the whole fan-art thing, I wouldn't mind that either!

Thank you. See you soon!


	20. Research

"That's the problem! I don't know what Fairy Tale is!"

Alistair could not help but notice how similar this scene was to the one he was the center of just a month previous. The six students in charge of protecting that damn ring hidden in the castle were gathered around a cot in the hospital wing. The sunlight drenched the room as it peaked over the Northern hills, leaving a warmth that enveloped the group like the tucked periwinkle blanket entrapping Aisen Yuki's sleeping form. He hoped Aisen did not wake up to all of them hovered over him like mosquitos on top of a rotten piece of fruit. The hyper kid would probably punch one of them by accident.

Regardless, they had awoken from their respective dreams with the exception of said Gryffindor, whose calm face was propped up by a fluffed pillow. Alistair was the first, who gasped and shouted as he shot up from his bed. The others stirred in various forms of distress before shaking off the throes of unexpected sleep. Once all were awake, Professor McGonnagall conjured up a house elf to place a golden mug of hot green tea that now rested in the center of the half-circle the students formed. She stood at the end of the hospital bed, her worn face crinkled with concern.

Laila waved her mug around, a slosh of the steaming liquid splattering on Alistair's metal arm. He tried to wiped it off as the Hufflepuff girl ranted next to him. Her face reddened with frustration, she raised her raspy voice as Edmund flinched on the opposite side of her directly next to Aisen.

"Is he still asleep? He needs to wake up and apologize to us," Laila growled. "I'm missing out on Care For Magical Creatures right now, and Ansel is getting hungry."

"Whose Ansel?" Alistair asked.

"The bowtruckle I like," Laila said as she crossed her arms. "What's it matter to you?"

"Miss Vaernes," McGonnagall chided Laila. The old witch breathed out a soft sigh and shook her head towards the dormant body of Aisen. "The next sin is upon us," she said. "And it has trapped Mister Yuki into his dreams."

"And we've been thrown into this, too," Laila said with an eyeroll. She dragged a sip of water from her porcelain mug while she sneered down at Aisen's resting body. "You know, Lacie isn't the only one here with some royalty in her family."

"We know about your dad, Laila," Lacie said. "You're house is really nice, by the way."

Laila scoffed as she took another sip of her mug. She had kept to herself for most of the previous month. She put her head down into her studies and trudged through the hallways like a sloth avoiding contact with other humans. Her father, the Norwegian Minister Of Magic, had been breathing down her neck every day about updates involving her situation. The girl would much rather hang out with the herds of thestrals that roamed just outside the Forbidden Forest than deal with any of these other morons. Licking her lips, she dug her short fingernails into the wooden armrest of her seat. She could care less about saving the school, but she had no further understanding of what was occuring to her or the others. And she knew they did not know, either.

"So," Lacie twirled a strand of her hair as she eyed Aisen. "every time we fall asleep, we get thrown into that strange dream world? And it's like...his dreams?"

"Correct," McGonagall stated. "This next sin may have learned a thing or two from the previous one. By tapping into the desires of Mister Yuki and tying it to his very overactive imagination, it appears he is stuck in this odd nothingness that has put himself, and you all as well, into his dreams."

"So what's up with him," Warren, who was previously watching the scene with a disinterested glare, asked as he put down the mug of tea onto his lap. His hair still sticking up from rubbing around in a pillow, he cleared his throat of its rasp. "Is he like an orphan or something?"

"They're not called orphans anymore," Edmund said as he tugged on his shirt collar. "It's not politically correct."

"It is not my place to divulge Mister Yuki's history," McGonagall snapped. "I will say that his propensity to say his parents name in his sleep should be indicator enough. The next sin has enticed Mister Yuki to hide in his dreams, and I fear the only people who are able to pull him out of this are you six students."

"We have to convince him that the real world is where he needs to be," Edmund said as he flashed a melancholy gaze at Aisen, whose forehead was now crinkled in some form of distress. "Otherwise, he's stuck there. And I'm assuming we have to beat whatever dreams we have been thrusted into."

"And we don't know the power of this Sin," Alistair said. "It could possess Aisen like the other one tried to do to me. Then, it'll go for the ring."

The rest of the group sat in the din of silence. Rumbling footsteps of students flowing to the Great Hall for lunch echoed up the stone steps leading to the hospital wing.

"So, does anybody know what a host club is?" Callie asked to the group. "Because the dream I was in involved that."

* * *

"Aisen has some messed up with comics."

In the Gryffindor dormitories, an odd array of students hovered around the pile of Japanese manga that was raked from underneath Aisen's bed. Staring down at the books, dust rained down around the spot. The dust pillowed out of every page as each of the students took a book and combed through them, hoping to match up the dreams they were trapped inside to the manga on the floor. The curtains drawn, the room was shrouded in shadows as the door was magicked to be locked. Fortunately, it was still lunchtime.

"This is our only tool for study," Edmund said towards Laila as he adjusted his reading glasses and looked down at a cover called _No Game No Life_. "Make it count."

"Do you really need those glasses?" Laila asked in a pointed fashion at Edmund. "I've seen you plenty of times without them."

Edmund stammered at the small group of books laying beside herself. "Did you find yours?"

"And read the first eight volumes while you were all finding yours," Laila said as she tossed another book aside. "It's kinda stupid. I woke up with these clothes that were way too tight for me and this guy in pink hair just randomly takes me to become apart of this magical guild. But it's not like out magic. It's more...stupid. And the story gets dumber every volume. Just finished it."

"Fast reader," Alistair said more to himself, impressed at Laila's ability to get through most of the volumes.. He flickered through the pages of another book before his eyes lit up in recognition. A place with very tall walls. Large monsters and smoldering infernos blistering through the streets. "So I found mine."

Glances at Alistair.

"It's called Attack On Titan. These giant naked monsters try to kill people, and this guy is really gung-ho on stopping them."

"Naked?" Warren asked in more of a deadpan tone.

"I feel like that's symbolism for Alistair." Lacie said with a small chuckle.

"Shut up," Alistair said. "I'm not doing anything like that right now. Uh...Warren," he said to direct attention away. He pointed at the taller, stoic man. "Describe yours."

"Found mine," Warren grunted. He picked up a colorful blue book from the mountain of manga. "Muggle high schoolers in Japan make a swimming club. I'm the new guy, and they forced me into a relay race. I lost. That's when I woke up.

"Wait, you all got the cool, fun ones and I have to deal with death and despair?" Alistair asked incredulously. "I actually like to swim! Callie?"

The quiet girl pulled a strand of her hair and hummed to herself. "I...uh...it's a little weird. It's this weird thing in Japan called a Host Club. And basically...these guys kinda flirt with these girls for like an hour or so. And I have to pretend to be a male in order to do it. And I woke up after I failed to charm this one girl."

Alistair sputtered as he gestured over at her. "You see? I could totally do that! But no! I get stuck with being killed over and over by some crazy monsters or An-. I mean, this weird girl."

Edmund blew out a long breath. With a nervous shiver, he flipped through another set of manga before shaking his head. "I told him many times to not get caught up in stuff like this. The make-believe. It's dangerous if your in pain and you hide your life away in things like this."

As he said that, Edmund reached into his pocket and felt the cover of the small book he carried around. Perhaps he was trying to talk more to himself than anyone else.

"My dream was from this book," Lacie said to break the tension. "I remember in my dream. It was like a dream in a dream. I was waking up into this weird world. It's like the muggles call them. Videos gaming or something? But you put on this weird helmet and enter it. Except we couldn't get out. And I ran into this guy my age with black hair and eyes. He was getting on my nerves. Called himself the Black Swordsman, but he was definitely Japanese. Very uncouth individual."

"Better than mine," Edmund said. "I was being forced to pilot a giant robot with some strange liquid that tasted horrible inside of it. And this girl with red eyes and blue hair slapped me for saying something bad about the leader of the organization!"

Boom!

The students jostled back as they saw the top of the pile cascade onto the carpet. Warren, his leg outstretched, kicked over the pile of books. In silence, he stood completely upright and waved his manga in front of them.

"We have to beat these dreams," Warren said. "Complaining about it won't help."

They considered his words. Staring down at the pile of manga, Callie could not help but feel bad for Aisen. Sure, they were all put in a bad situation. However, Aisen must have had some upsetting past events to barricade himself in his dreams. Tilting her head towards Warren, the Sixth Year boy sighed as he realized how he made her jump.

"Sorry," Warren said more to Callie than anyone else. "I wasn't sure how to get everyone's attention."

Edmund adjusted his glasses and gulped. "Warren, we aren't complaining. We're just confused. And upset. Me and Aisen...I don't want him like this."

"Exaclty," Alistair spoke as he sat down onto the empty bed, crinkling the scarlet sheets. "I've gotten to know him well in the last month. And I like him enough to want to save him. Again, I guess," he said while tracing a finger on his metal arm. "But we need to get started with studying. I know I won't be able to beat this dream if I can't read how to do it."

"Right," The rest of the group appeared to say in unison, as if in some shounen manga.

"So, am I supposed to be the ginger girl on the cover," Lacie cringed as she picked up a book called _Sword Art Online_. "Because I do not want sleep with that guy."

"What kind of messed up shit does Aisen read?" Warren asked. "And why am I shirtless the entire story?"

"Thats the Japanese for you," Edmund said.

"Hey Alistair," Callie whimpered. "Uh...could you help me pick up girls?"

* * *

Ellora was bored.

The spunky Gryffindor girl tapped her finger on the oak of the table in the charms classroom. Professor Donald gestured like a waving patron at a horserace, droning on about the importance of a good Confundus Charm. The rest of the class stared like dead zombies ahead at the boisterous man, his bloviating causing Ellora's eyes to roam around the dead classroom.

"And a lot of people tell me," Professor Donald said in a loud voice. "I have such a good Confundus Charm. There was this one man, an older guy. Nicholas Flamiel? Flamell? Great guy! But he tells me-he says to me, 'Hey Donald, you are doing such a good job with that.' And I said thank you. I know. Most people tell me I'm good at it, but to hear it from him was much appreciated. I don't think many people understood how hard it was for me growing up to reach where I am now. But class, let me tell you that this guy knew a thing or two about great wizards."

Ellora panned over to her side. Her face dropped into a concerned stare when she saw Alistair seated at the back. The Slytherin's vibrant green eyes appeared dimmer, less excitable than usual. His hair slightly disheveled, his face was shadowed with more gaunt as the sunlight refracted through the emerald stained glass obscuring the Hogwarts grounds outside. His robes appeared to swallow him up more than usual, his tie even looser around his neck.

She hated that her former boy-toy was depressed. She was genuinely hopeful that his pursuits of Calista would be fruitful. Truth be told, she was not as shocked as many others when he walked in a month ago with his new prosthetic arm. At some point, she knew the trouble that he got into at Hogwarts would cause some permanent bodily damage one day. The lack of hearing Alistair's usual jocular voice did prove worrisome to her. After all, she had noticed he did not even try to speak to Calista in public. Or most people for that matter.

Then again, some other people were acting strange as well. Alistair was hanging out more with a couple of Gryffindors. Aisen, that little blonde kid who just had his sister enter the school. She did not know much about either of them. Although she realized she had not seen him blabbering to Edmund about his latest muggle craze.

Then, there was Edmund. She had always thought Edmund was cute in a nerdy and shy kind of way. He would be a great boyfriend if she was looking for anything steady of the sort. Looking to her right, she noticed the mild-mannered student peering down at a book in his hands. She tilted her head and squinted her eyes, peering over at the odd shapes of the panels in the book. And...was he turning the pages backwards?

Ellora just wanted things to get back to the way before. There was too little happening at Hogwarts. It was already well into the school year, and now there was nothing going on. With a glance, she noticed a Sixth Year Hufflepuff. Laila Vaernes, she believed the name was. Also somebody she had noticed Alistair talking to. The girl was quite pretty, but she knew Alistair would not go for someone with quite as much an attitude as her. She also heard her humor could be quite dark. Regardless, she received an idea as she eyed the brunette, who was also reading something underneath her desk.

But nevermind that. Ellora smirked at the girl behind her. She had an idea for how to spice things up and make Alistair happy.

* * *

"A strand of her hair?"

Ellora nodded like a broken bobblehead figurine as she cornered Laila after class in the school courtyard. The clouds flew overhead and blocked the sun out, giving a heavy shadow befallen over the school. Ellora had her hands in an excited grip as she stepped closer to Laila.

"I know it's weird to ask, but I think this could help him get over whatever he's going through," Ellora said.

"Tricking someone into being in...love won't help anything," Laila said. "Besides, I think Alistair would much rather have a potion to get his arm back."

Ellora pursued her lips. "So you know what happened to his arm?"

Laila scoffed and flicked her hair. "I don't. And I don't have time for you. All I can say is something is going on, and dealing with things like who is sleeping whith who won't fix anyth-."

"But it's not that," Ellora said as her eyes widened. "I just want to see Alistair happy. I know how he talks about Calista, and maybe things have been rough for a little bit, but this could be good for him. But Calista needs a little push, and maybe some Amortentia could help that out."

Laila sighed, her face looking as if she was seriously considering jumping off the bridge leading towards the Quidditch Pitch. She slid her leather knapsack back onto her shoulder and tucked a bit of her brown hair back behind her ear. "Look, I appreciate you caring for...humans. I really do. But we have a lot of stuff to deal with. Some stuck up nerd girl who things she knows everything stalking Alistair is going to make things a lot worse. For everyone." She said with a final bite.

"I'm going to make the potion," Ellora said with a determined look. "And I'll make Calista fall in love with him. And it might help you if she's on your side through whatever your group is doing."

"You pretty smart," Laila said as she turned around. "Maybe you should sneak into Ravenclaw and get the strand yourself. I bet you'd get past the riddle at the entrance."

With her sarcastic remark, Laila let and opened up her book, pouring through how to survive in the fictional land of Fiore.

* * *

So a few things brewing up here. Tell me what you think.

Please keep reviewing! I noticed we are a little lower on that than usual. Some of that is my fault, but please tell me if you like what you read. If not, tell me why even more! And any OCS, submissions, or contributions of any kind are much appreciated!

So what is going on here? What is this dream world? Did you recognize every manga/anime? Let me know!

Also, any others I should include? Just wondering?

Thank you! See you soon!


	21. Dying To Die

Cas was a man of many coarse words.

The shadows of the ambers flickering in the smoldered fire place lapped over his smooth face, an eternal frown etched into his angsty Sixth year self. The tufts of smoke snaked up through the warm room like lazy caterpillars inching up the grass blades out in the immaculately manicured castle grounds. His lips pursued in a tight grip, he could only muster the energy to stare down at his wand in his hand. The springy, eleven inch elm wand had rarely felt as useless as it did then and there.

Cas said little to most of the other students over the past month, but his silence was not as noticeable as his Robbie. As he lifted up his logs onto the mahogany coffee table between the sofa and the fireplace, he eyed the trophy case to the right of a bust of Albus Dumbledore. The tall glass case brimmed with the curvaceous gold that glimmered like the stars roaming the night sky outside the bay window towards the dormitories. Gryffindor had one many trophies over the past decade. From the double sweep of Quidditch Cup and House Cups, awards ranging from Perfect Attendance (Hermoine Granger, who had been dumb enough to come back to Hogwarts for her official Seventh Year) to Best Dueler in the Dueling Club (Cas felt that Robbie had cheated in that one, but didn't care enough to say anything) remained posted on the racks to remind students of the greatness before themselves.

Cas snorted and could not help the small smile as he gazed at the few empty spots in the case.

"What are you laughing about?"

Cas cocked his head back and nearly fell off the couch. The Hufflepuff girl leered at him as Cas sat upright and adjusted the mussed up collar on his corduroy sweater. His wand abandoned on the ground, he licked his dry lips and stuttered.

"The hell are you doing here? It's almost curfew."

Laila cocked an eyebrow. "And you care...why?"

Cas scoffed while crossing his stocky arms. "I don't. I just don't want anybody to get the wrong idea."

Laila stepped forward and spied the case in the corner. She pointed at it and shook her head. "We should have won House Cup last year."

Cas gave Laila a curious look. The girl wore a tight wool yellow sweatshirt, and her normally curvy hair was pulled back in a neat bun. She was an odd appearance in the Common Room, but he supposed crazier things were afoot.

Truth be told, he enjoyed their conversations in Divination. Ever since they first paired up, they had been engrossed in permanent pessimism and complaining about the horrors of teenage school life. He was glad somebody thought the world as shitty as him, although her incessant use of humor in her, according to Trelawney, impending death made him uneasy. He could say that she had already won a spot on the "people Cas could stand" list.

"What did Hufflepuff do last year to deserve it?" Cas asked in an almost teasing way.

Laila let out an exasperated noise. "Nothing. That's why we deserve it. We caused the least amount of damage to the school last year. Remember last year when Tristan Gillespie tried to give Warren Monger Poneydraken Warts on his face?"

Cas rolled his eyes before putting his large hands behind his head. He was trying with great desperation to appear comfortable in front of Laila. A slight shiver tickled his nerves at the mention of Warren. Fortunate for him, Warren seemed to think Cas as more of a collateral damage victim instead of n instigator. Yes, his grey and nearly lifeless eyes bore at him every time they were in the same room. He felt Warren's stare etching into him with every gaze. However, they had exchanged no words. It's not like it was his idea to try and out the man as a werewolf to begin with.

He knew better than to tip off that he recognized Warren as more than an odd footnote in the castle, so he acted nonchalant and shrugged his shoulders "He told me he was trying to impress Robbie. Didn't help much when that guy put him in the Hospital Wing."

"And then that prank James Potter pulled on last years Potion teacher?"

Cas nodded. "Yeah, I think that kid has been the cause of the Potions teachers leaving. At least for the past few years. Damn Potter could kill someone and get away with it."

"Agreed," Laila said.

"Still not as bad as when Pretty Boy in Slytherin won Christmas Ball King last year," Cas let out a small chuckle. "Robbie nearly stormed off with his gang to beat him up, but I stopped them before. If he had seen what his sister was doing with that idiot, Azkaban would be pretty full right now."

Laila wrung her wrist and peered at the grandfather clock in the corner by the marble podium that a wizarding chess table rested. Cas noticed his heart grew just a twinge heavy as he realized this decent conversation, the first he had in some time, was nearing an end.

A pair of footsteps clacking down the staircase to the dormitories broke the calm silence. Edmund tensed up while descending down. Still in his proper school robes, he tugged at his collar, a thick and colorful book in his hand.

"Laila, you-you..."

Edmund stopped in front of Laila. She gestured for him to continue.

"You forgot...you're..."

"Oh my god," Laila scowled. "Edmund, spit it out."

Edmund flicked his eyes over to Cas. "Oh, hey. It's...you."

Cas blinked. "And it is you."

"Yeah," Edmund plastered a watery, unsure smile to his face. "

* * *

"We gotta get back at him, Boss."

The Quidditch pitch was empty. The grass still tall and drenched in mildew from months of negelct. The hoops had their golden painted chipped off around the rims, and the whole arena had a moist smell like a formally flooded motel room. The wooden bleachers surrounding the pitch almost a hundred feet above him were bare with soft wood molding away from rot. Robbie crinkled his face at the sight of the field from the ground level. His hands placed on his hips, he shook his head. The Castle never kept up with the arena when it was off-season. He had no idea why this was the case; it would be much easier to keep up the image of the field throughout the year instead of starting from scratch.

A group of about four other Gryffindors stood behind their leader. They were wearing deep frowns, as Robbie had just been reminded of his earlier fight with Alistair. Low charcoal clouds collided overhead. However, the season was coming up, and he needed to get a feel of the field's shape before try-outs.

Tristan Gillespie, for example, was sort of the most allegiant to Robbie. Despite being a fourth year, he was almost as tall as Robbie and almost as built. His straight cocoa hair was meticulously straightened down to his blades. His blue eyes narrowed, he pulled off his maroon hoodie and stared with concern at Robbie's head.

"I want to kill him," Robbie said as he hoped he sounded convincing. "He's useless in every way. But...slmething is happening with him. And it's not just the arm. The Professors watch his every move."

"You think he went for it?" Tristan asked. "The treasure?"

Robbie shrugged He was involved in a deep, internal crisis. He stared down at the entagled blades of grass by his wet leather shoes. A ladybug bounced on the end of one of the blades. Robbie frowned at the sight, his mind wandering to other things. He needed to sound like he was going for Alistair, but not immediately. In fact, Robbie had little desire to go after him at all. It surprised him like the bowtruckle that bit his thumb in third year.

Yet, he knew that Alistair was important. And he knew that both his and his sister's life depended on all of the students in the circle being able to complete whatever secret work they were involved. He sure as hell did not want to be nice to Leonhardt, but he knew that beating up or jinxing him into oblivion would put him and many others in great peril. The whole situation made him want to puke.

"I'm saying we leave Leonhardt alone for a minute," Robbie said. "Make him feel at ease."

"And then strike," Another goon said. "Smart move."

It was a lie, but a good one. Robbie gave off a smirk with the bait taken.

"Good thing that Yuki nerd is ubbing off on him," Tristan said. "Doubt many girls will care for him now that he's one of those Japanese nerds."

"That was basically his only reason for existing," Robbie said, turning around to face them. "Messing around like that. But with that gone? Wouldn't be surprised if he jumped off the Astronomy Tower."

"I don't know, boss," Tristan said and he took a step forward. "I think we're relying to much on him. We should punish him ourselves."

"Yeah, he's probably into some dark shit," one of the other ones said. "That's why his arm is off. To sacrifice to the evil gods or something. Maybe he is a dark wizard.

"What if he was You-Know-Who reincarnated?" Tristan asked. "I read books, and I think he acts just like You-Know-Who did in school."

"I don't think so." Robbie said.

"Really?"

Robbie stiffened up like an old broom. He upticked his angular jaw and crossed his arms. "Leonhardt is as brain dead as the potatoes I eat at dinner," he said. "I think even Voldybitch would have higher standards than some man-whore with no ideas or talent to call his own. So wait for my signal, and then we can strike. In the meantime, we can figure out our strategy for this season."

The rest of the group looked unamused, but carried on with discussing strategy for the season opener.

* * *

"Swimming is easier than making a bread sandwich."

Warren would admit to himself that he was a teensy bit awkward in the pool with Alistair. Of course, being somewhat unclothed in such close proximity to another male was always going to make somebody uneasy. However, he was more embarrassed by the situation. Here he was, a man that took himself quite seriously, learning how to doggie paddle in the swimming pool area. The room was cavernous with the reflection of the shimmering water in the dim light bouncing off the wooden ceiling. The chlorine stench made Warren wrinkle his nose as his upper body gleamed with droplets running down his muscular arms. He shivered as a strange chill flew overhead in the pool, as if a strange spirit had been sneaking in on them.

Swimming lessons were the last thing on Warren's mind. His plans to swipe his ring, his precious family heirloom, bumped into his brain like an annoying mosquito drawing blood. In a way, he had a hard time not seeing some of the other members of the group as enemies.

Alistair was not a huge concern of his. The man was not as physically built or imposing as him as he put his hands on his hips and blabbered on about swimming techniques. He knew for a fact that he was very weak at most things magical, so repelling him through spell was no issue. The man seemed harmless, but the strange crystal hanging in the center of his chest dripped with a strange danger to it. Almost as if it were alive. Warren would have to study that crystal further. It may have other properties to it.

In fact, he may say that Alistair was actually trying to be friends with him. That thought made him want to dunk his head under the water and keep it there.

"You extend you're arm like this." Alistair said as he plunged his hand into the water.

He paused, waiting for Warren to do the same. The secret werewolf sighed and did so."

"No, you cock your elbow back up," Alistair said. "So your fingertips are first.

"This is dumb," Warren said.

"Hey, be grateful," Alistair said as he slicked back his hair. "At least you can actually practice what you have to do in your dream. I still can barely use that weird flying device they have. Thank God for Quidditch, or I'd never learn. And you only wake up when you lose. I have to die before I wake up. And believe me, the girl that keeps killing me is not gentle."

Warren tried again. This time, his stroke was as smooth as the butter spread Alistair swished onto his rolls at dinner time.

"Beautiful," Alistair said with a small grin. "Your form is beautiful."

"Uh...thanks." Warren said as his tight chest tensed up with unease.

Alistair gave a bit of a sad smile. He was not sure if Warren was normally so awkward, or if he simply did not care about teaming up with the others. Looking down at his fake arm, he combed over the cool metal with his real hand. He was happy that the arm did not rust or appeared to be effected by anything that a normal arm would not be effected by. However, he knew this odd team that had been built by this ring was still not cohesive. He did not want to sound too arrogant and consider himself the team leader, but he knew he was the most socially acceptable of the group. If anyone was to bring the people together to for an ultimate bad-ass evil soul-killing force, it was him.

"So, you're from Ireland, right?" The Slytherin said.

Warren looked away from Alistair and down at his drowned arms obscured by the water lapping at his taut waist. "Sure."

"And...you like it there?"

"S'Alright."

"What do you like about it?"

"Good food."

"Better than Hogwarts."

"Not really."

"So what do you think of Aisen? He's put us in an odd spot."

"Not much."

"Merlin, Warren," Alistair said as he stood up straighter in the water. "We can't be soulfully connected and have you not interact with us at all."

"What do you want to know," Warren chided. "My life story?"

"It could help," Alistair said. "Calista told me this thing appears to be targeting our past and our actions in it. Well, she said it in a smarter way, but that's what I was told. So maybe we can figure out what we did bad in the past or something badd that happened and stop the Sins before they take us like Aisen."

Warren stared at Alistair. Then, he turned around and began to swim down the other ledge.

Alistair sighed and looked down at the water.

"Physical training won't help here."

Alistair etched on a sly smile as he whipped around and looked up. The stoic Ravenclaw girl he could not stop thinking about glowered over him. True, he had little interaction with her the past month, but his resolve to keep things warm between them exploded after his encounter with Ebony. If he wanted to change his image, the one that caused Ebony and the sins to target him, he would have to be serious about pursuing Calista and only her. Or at least, until she rejected him. Then, he would have to move on.

"Hello, Calista. Couldn't resist the sight of me dripping wet in a pool?" Alistair put on his best smooth face.

Calista rolled her eyes. This boy was going to be even more annoying after his encounter with that sin, wasn't he? "Physical metaboundaries don't cross over into the dream world," she continued." At least, not that well according to Socrates."

"You're more than welcome to join me in the pool," Alistair flirted. "Gotta warn you. I may have left my swim trunks in the locker room."

"Men." Calista complained under her breath. She adjusted her Ravenclaw robes and buckled down on her knees towards the surface of the water. "Anyway, I think I know how to help you all out and get closer to finding the ring."

"How?"

"Well, what is the goal of these dreams?" Calista said. At this, Warren noticed Calista and began to wade back over to their side. A stony frown planted itself on his face.

"To beat the bad guy?"

"No, it's to fulfill Aisen's dreams. You wake up when you die, right?"

"So...Aisen has to die?"

"Possibly," Calista bit her lip. "Although that would be a downer of an ending, wouldn't it. I think you shouldn't be focused on beating them, though. What are manga known for?"

"Some pretty upsetting things," Alistair said. "I went through one in Aisen's pile. It had this kid that looked like a girl but was actually a boy. But then this older guy, an adult takes him out for ice cream and it got messy really fast."

"They're known for lasting forever," Calista said. "So reaching the 'end' of the story will take a while if you have to go volume to volume. I think it's more likely there is something you have to find inside. Something of Aisen's. Hell, it could be Aisen himself, hidden away in the dreams somewhere. If cocooning himself into anime and manga is something he did in real life, I imagine the sin is more of a defense mechanism for him than seen as an enemy. I've looked at these anime, and they all seem to have some things in common. Mainly, they all are about a journey to achieve some object. For Warren," she nodded over to the broad-shouldered man. It's simply a medal. For you, the first volumes of Attack On Titan are focused on finding a key. The others are a little more difficult, but I think there is something that has to be unlocked in every dream to reach Aisen."

"So, could you be a doll and tell me where the key is?"

"It's in Eren's basement."

"Thanks, Calista. Another question, love."

"Don't call me 'Love.'"

"Could you tell me where this basement is? And who this Eren is?"

"Well, if you haven't noticed," Calista said. "The world you are in doesn't exactly have street signs and addresses like we do. So...start studying."

As quick as she had appeared, Calista exited the pool area. Alistair thought to himself as the water ran through the pool filter, a quiet hum escaping from the edges of the pool.

"Don't tell her anymore."

Alistair looked back to Warren, his face still in a frown as the door shut.

"Wha-Calista? Not tell her anything else? Why?"

Warren left out the duel they had and just sighed. "She's helping us for a reason, and it's not because she doesn't want us to die."

"Like that's the worst thing that could happen!"

Alistair shouted out as a translucent girl with glasses zoomed up from beyond the pool surface and smiled at the jostled boy. Even Warren grunted out in surprise before putting back on his serious mask.

"Dying is the easy part. It's all the stuff afterwards that's the problem!"

"Moaning Myrtle," Alsitair said. "Why are you here?"

"Two half-naked boys splashing each other in a pool," she said with a flick of her wrist. "How could I not pass that up! Although I wish it weren't you," she stuck her tongue out at Alistair.

"Hey," Alistair crossed his arms in defiance. "I said I was sorry for last year. I forgot that was your bathroom, and me and Ellora were both eager, and I cleaned everythign up afterwards!"

"And you," Myrtle pointed at Warren. "Your lucky I haven't said anything. Your bribes only work for so long."

Alistair raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Warren tilted his head, the shadow of the light obscuring half of his face in darkness. "And you'll keep your silence. Or I'll show you what I meant by 'things worse than death.'"

Myrtle laughed. "Calm down. It's not like I would spill, anyway. I like you too much to do that."

"What is she talking about," Alistair asked.

"None of your business." Warren said.

"Now please go away,' Myrtle said. "Me and Warren have some business to discuss.

Alistair blinked and looked over at the doorway. Time for their session was up. He climbed out of the pool, the water droplets falling off his body as the pool released him from his grip. Smoothing out his orange swim trunks with a grey thunder graphic, he craned his neck back towards Warren as he grabbed a towel.

"I want to help, Warren. With what you're going through."

Warren kept his dead gaze up at Alistair. His grey eyes unwavering as they appeared to peer right into Alistair's open green ones.

Alistair blew out a deep breath and prodded away, his wet feet smacking it's imprint over the slippy stone.

* * *

"Can you two shut up already?"

Lacie huffed with her normally pale face reddening like a ripe tomato. Her shoulder rocked like a gondola in chopping waters as she glared across the table.

Kirito blinked at the sudden outburst. Asuna could not help but hold onto the knife in her hand cocked sideways like a gangster with a firearm.

"Are you okay, Lacie?" Kirito asked. "We were just discussing how to beat Level Fou-."

"You two have to be the most vapid, underdeveloped characters ever," Lacie said. "And this place is a dump! There's dust everywhere and it's all over my clothes which are complete fashion disasters an-."

Asuna stabbed Lacie in the eye.

* * *

"But I don't know how to control this thing."

"Just think."

Edmund had done his fair bit of research and realized that none of it really mattered. Here he was, locked into a giant purple robot with invisible LCL liquid bubbling up in the cockpit. The stench of the LCL had been difficult enough to grasp, but the skin-tight plug suit hugging his wiry frame nearly suffucated him while his veins pumped like an excited metronome. The angel roared out as it latched itself onto a building and shook the foundation. Like a deck of cards, the steel-reinforced tower disintegrated into the ground.

"You just have to think your actions," Misato, the commander of the operations said. "Just relax and move one step at a time."

Edmund, the bundle of sensitive nerves he was, pulled on the right arm lever which caused the EVA to kick up it's leg. The robot smashed into the foundation of a glass skyscraper, causing a roar of debris to plummet down with the tower.

"I mustn't run away," Edmund chanted to himself. "I mustn't run away. I mustn't run away."

In the control room, Misato turned back from the microphone over to Ritsuko, an older doctor that had her arms crossed in worry. "He does know the Angel is behind him, right?"

Edmund is stabbed in the chest by the angel.

And then he woke up back in Hogwarts.

* * *

"So, little piglet," Tamaki said. "Are you prepared for your first session?"

"But I told you, I have the money for a new vase," Callie said. "I don't know why I have to do this."

The girl was overwhelmed by the number of crazy people in the room. When she had first entered the dream, she stumbled into a giant room with light pink walls and chatreuse marble floors that screamed of decadence. The lilac scent matched the flowers that dotted the golden pots resting on their busts. With the exception of the color, it reminded Callie of Hogwarts in a number of ways. the private school had the gigantic hallways, pre-colonial archways, and all of the ritzy pompousness to boot.

So, when she broke a vase and was confused for a male, she had to protest until realizing this was a part of Aisen's dreams. She had no choice but tp play through them. The group was an odd bunch. There were the two prankster twins that picked on her the moment she walked in and were most obsessed with keeping up a rich image. A blonde flirt that seemed to croon and sway whenever he moved. A tall man with dark hair and glasses that was obsessed with keeping the club's budget and writing in his large notebook. An even taller man, bulkier and quieter, sat with a shorter blonde kid who chirped with happiness every time he opened his mouth for cake. Frankly, some of them reminded her of the people in Hogwarts, but she had no ability to use magic from what she felt.

"Sounds like the commoner..." One of the evil twins with ginger hair chimed in.

"Is a coward." Said the quieter sounding one.

"And what's wrong with that?" Callie asked as she turned to face the twins with a nervous expression.

"That sip of water you drank yesterday also costs money," Kyoya, the glasses shadow king added. "That will be an extra thousand yen."

"Never mind that," Tamaki said. "Have at it."

Callie gulped and paced over to a group of girls new to the club. If she wanted to stop these dreams and save the school, she would have to do her best. Putting on a brave face, she bucked her shoulders back and adjusted the tie on her periwinkle school uniform. Approaching the plush lavender couch, she approached the females that donned extremely garish banana yellow dress uniforms. She had to thank the gods above for not making Hogwarts that bad with uniforms.

Callie etched a thin smile on her face. Here goes nothing.

"So...you like jazz?"

Callie woke up.

* * *

"So, the magic is different where you are from?" Natsu asked.

"Yes, it actually makes sense," Laila added.

The Fairy Tail Guild Hall looked pretty much just like it did in the manga. It was a large room with wooden rafters and barrels of rum and whisky lining the bar area. It was basically a giant dance hall with somehow even more fighting. In fact, when Laila was ushered into the place with some weird pink-haired guy and his talking bright blue cat (that could also fly), a massive bar fight destroyed some of the marble pillars that held up portions of the roof.

"Why are you being such a bitch," some chestnut-haired girl in a crop top said before she downed another bottle of gin.

"Because I have been put in a bitch-causing situation," Laila shouted. "This guy won't shut up about his amazing dad who is also a dragon," she said with an incredulous expression on her face. "And all these other morons keep fighting over nothing."

"Hey, miss," Gray, some even weirder guy who was completely naked and standing next to Laila. His spiky black hair almost poked her eye. "I seemed to have misplaced my clothes. Do you think I could borrow some?"

"Shut up!" Laila growled. "I don't want to see you naked!"

"That's why I asked to borrow your clothes."

Laila seethed as she clenched her fists. "I don't want to be here! I want to be home away from all of you losers!"

"But Laila," Natsu whined. "We were about to go on a super-special mission and get lotsa money for food! I haven't eaten in half an hour!"

"You know what? It's duel time," A tall, imposing lady known as Erza with straight scarlet hair said as she glared at Laila.

"What're you gonna do? Blind me with your dumb teenage fan-service," Laila asked. "And yes, I know what fan-service is now."

Erza stood up and knocked her wooden stool over. "You and me. Right now!"

"Just kill me already, sister!"

Laila's eyes opened to reveal the rest of the group in Hogwarts staring down at her.

"What?" Laila growled. "Those people were annoying."

* * *

Meanwhile, Aisen had just awoken in a small house.

It was a warm house. The sun drenched the wooden floorboards as the rolling hills of Argentina shielded the base of the tall mountains standing behind them like the statues that lined the entrance hall of Hogwarts. A few brown cows shuttled themselves around. They trudged over the flat grass that had browned at the tips from the hooves punding down on them on a daily basis.

A light breeze wafted over the meadow. A cool whistle blew past the window of the humble house as Aisen raised himself up to peer out the window further. The twin matress squeaked underneath him, hard and terse from years of usage. Thin cable-knit fabric crumpled up by his feet as he shifted over. He gasped as he saw the faded yellow of his old blanket by his thin toes. He leaned forward and snagged it in his hands. Balling it up by his chest, he opened his mouth with no sound escaping.

His hair a little longer than before, he could not help but sigh. His old room was small, with an old oak wardrobe worn at the handles carrying his clothes. A few paintings with chipped paint hung on bent nails on the almost yellow wood panels that surrounded him. A white kite rested by the end of his bed post towards the doorway.

A faceless clock ticked away the time. It was near noon.

Aisen sniffed.

Sizzling. From the kitchen.

I haven't been here in a long time.

 _I know you haven't. That is why I brought you here._

Aisen looked up at the ceiling. A few cobweb were strung across the corners of the room. In fact, a tiny speck of sunlight snuck through a minuscule hole in the roof. The whirring of crickets and flapping birds roamed around the house outside. There was a dull comfort that Aisen felt in his bones. The fatigue and quiet stream of the universe that was built before him made him want to stay in that bed for much longer despite his own curiosity.

This place was home. Wasn't it?

 _It could still be your home. I made it for you._

And my parents. They're in the other room, aren't they? Mom is making breakfast. And dad is drinking his cup of Juan Valdez.

 _And your sister is happy._

I'm happy. I haven't felt that in a while.

 _But your friends. At least you call them that. They're trying to take them away again. They're trying to come here to take you away from them._

But they wouldn't do that. They like me. I think. At least, Edmund wouldn't do that to me. And Alistair would understand.

 _They are trying to break through the walls we have created for them. Although they will be formidable challenges, at least one of them will break through. All of them will be needed to get you out of here._

But I don't need to get out of here. I have everything I need. My family. My home. My 3DS. My internet with anime.

 _You have your life back. I promise to protect you from them._

Aisen closed his eyes. The room felt like it was swirling in front of him, and he ran a hand through his blonde hair. By now, he was close to forgetting how this voice could be so bad. Maybe he wanted a ring for his own ulterior purposes, but that could not matter so much to him! After all, the voice was so soothing, so kind. There was not much left for him to stay in the real world.

I don't want to leave. And I don't want you to leave me. You gave this to me. But my sister...she might miss me. And I do like my friends.

 _What if I brought them here. And made sure they stayed so they could not ruin this._

That would be great. We could all be here together. But promise you won't leave.

 _I won't, Aisen. I care about you. We will make sure they can't get through to us._

* * *

 **Hope things are going well for everyone!**

 **Things happen in life that slow you down, but i will keep trudging through! It's important to make life not-so-serious all the time, and I think this fic does a great job of that for me! So thank you for allowing me to use your characters!**

 **But most importantly, review! I need reviews, and I want you to know that I appreciate them so much!**

 **Any ideas whats going on? Any characters have anything brewing under the surface? How do you feel about the crossovers? Did you like the dialogue? Just tell me whatever you are thinking about what is happening!**

 **And of course, any comments, fan art, or referrals to others to read this are very appreciated and I will remember that as I write your characters!**

 **As always, OC submissions remain open, so don't worry if I haven't gotten to your character yet. Most of them should play vital roles at some point!**

 **Thank you. See you soon!**


	22. Changing Paths

Smack!

Splash!

Chlorine stung Warren's eyes as the surface erupted into specks of water flying above like jumping beans. He gasped for air, his broad shoulders heaving up and down as he bobbed by the side of the pool. His black hair cling to his head, and the tips dripped with the water rolling back down towards the surface of the pool.

"Not bad, Warren-chan," a shorter blonde kid with impossible magenta eyes chirped as he bounded next to the club manager. "You might actually stay on the surface next time!"

"Nagisa! Be nice," Rei, an indigo haired man with glasses shouted in a rushed nervous fashion.

"But we're not going to qualify if he's this slow!" Nagisa said. "What if we finish sixth again like last time?"

Warren could not be helped but be reminded of Aisen and Edmund from the pair. For as little interaction as he had in most people, he gleamed quite a bit of information from them.

He had to admit, swimming was a challenge for him. And he thought it was quite stupid how the evil spirits Voldemort had summoned upon them had forced them live out some teenager's anime fantasies. But dumber things had happened to him, he guessed. This was the routine every night. They would go to sleep and face off against their various tasks. So here he was, fated to have another restless dream about trying to win some stupid swimming competition in some dumb Japanese high school.

"Good job, Warren-Chan," a figure almost as tall as him crouched down and extended a hand towards him. He was a gentle giant that was somewhat squeamish, but he was nice enough to give Warren some real encouragement.

Warren sighed and clasped Makoto's hand. "Lay off the 'chan' and get me out of here."

"Still think you can beat me?"

Warren almost gagged as he stood up at full height and turned to the source of the voice. From the source material he read, he came to realize that he would have to follow a certain storyline. Of course, being a sports manga, there had to be both a heavy theme of friendship and the arch-rival that was a former friend now pestering him. The boss, if you will.

Warren, his grey hammers clinging to his legs, looked over at the man with serrated teeth like knives hitting out from his gums. His matching duo of red hair and eyes gleamed like a hungry shark as he approached Warren. Oddly enough, he had only a swimsuit on as well.

"Hey, Rin-Chan!" Nagisa waved. "Funny to see y-"

Warren stepped back in surprise as Rin Matsuoka charged forward, nearly bumping into him.

"I thought you less of a coward," Rin growled at Warren with a tight smirk. "You could just challenge me now, but you decide to wait for regionals."

"I really don't care," Warren said.

"Thats so Warren," Makoto said with a small smile.

"No it's not," Warren snapped. Everybody took a step back as he clenched his fists. "You people don't know me at all!"

"Now that is Warren-Chan," Nagisa said.

Warren seethed to himself as the swimmers crossed their arms and looked at him as if they were examining a sea slug. Playing this role was getting on his last nerve.

"You don't know me! I'm not even from here, and I don't give a shit about any of this. I am literally here just to get some dumb kid I don't know out of some prison so I can get my ring! It's just a sport! It's just swimming! You all act like it's lufe and death, and I know a thing or two about that."

"It's not just swimming," Rin said. "It's-it's about us reconnecting as frien-."

That was when Warren decided to just try again next time he slept. He jumped into the pool and drowned himself.

Then, he woke up.

* * *

Alistair was having less luck than Warren.

He knew he had to reach Annie in some way shape or form. He tried everything. He attempted espionage and snuck up on her once to incapacitate her. That resulted in a knife to his throat. Another time, he tried to reason to her inner humanity. Since this was Attack On Titan, that was an automatic death sentence and he wasn't stabbed in the chest.

He pretended to be of that world, and explained how Eren Jaeger was an important person and needed to live. That time, he was more successful. He was tortured for information and THEN KILLED.

Spoiling the entire collection of volumes from Attack On Titan didn't work either. That time, Annie and the other two thought he was engaging in witchcraft, and they considered his execution a patriotic duty.

And no, flirting was completely off the table. He tried that four times already. In fact, he swore he saw the tiniest of smirks from her when she killed him.

"Please, Annie," Alistair pleaded the moment he landed with his 3DM gear next to them. "I need to talk to you!"

Annie stared, her ice eyes widening as she was in the middle of taking of Marco's Gear to be a ten by a Titan.

"Who the hell ar-."

"We've been through this," Alistair said. He wiped off a smidge of dirt with his metal arm. "I'm Alistair. I'm not from this universe. And I need to save some blonde forth year who hasn't trapped us in a dream land every time we sleep."

Annie clasped a knife from her boots and flicked them between her fingers. "Whoever you are, leave and go back!"

"Believe me, I want to go back to Hogwarts," Alistair said whole taking a cautious step forward. "But I need to get Aisen first. Actually, I need to get to some guy's basement first. And I need your help."

"I don't care," Annie said as she pointed the sparkling knife at Alistair. The orange sky above darkened with smoke as more explosions rattled the buildings surrounding them. "Get our of here and rejoin your squadron. You're getting into something you'll regret." She said.

Alistair noticed the tone of her voice towards the end of her statement, as if she was in deep turmoil. He rolled his eyes. This manga was far more complicated than it needed to be. He clutched at the center of his chest.

He felt the ruby crystal hanging around his neck.

That was it! He completely forgot he had it!

The Slytherin reaches into his shirt and tugged the crystal out. He noticed some very dramatic anime music just bursted out of nowhere, but he had already gotten used to it. So, Alistair yanked it directly at Annie, who flinched with confusion at the necklace.

Alistair stood, a small grin on his face as he pointed it at Annie.

"Uh...what are you doing?"

Alistair's grin melted away like the smoke evaporating into the dark sky above. He looked like a moronic scarecrow holding out the crystal right at her.

"I...uh..."

The two bigger men behind Annie looked at each other. Their situation was turning into a complete farce as the seconds ticked by.

Annie had enough. She reared back the knife and flung it forward.

Alistair closed is eyes and did the best thing his instinct told him to do. He threw the crystal at her just as he dived towards the side. The teenager grunted as he smacked onto the broken cobblestone and rolled towards his side. Sliding to a halt, he wiped the dirt from his eyes and gazed at Annie.

The crystal was in her hand. She looked down at it, and her ice blue eyes quivered like the ambers of burnt wood that frolicked in the haze the blew past them. Her mouth barely agape, she let out a tiny sound as her reflection stared back at her.

One of the big men sauntered over to her. His brow furrowed, a shadow of anger passed over his smooth face. He reached his hand out to cup the girl's shoulder.

"Annie," Renier said. It's time to kill the-."

It was his last words as Annie whipped around. Grabbing the two blades from her 3DMG gear, they glinted as she flapped them like the frantic wings of a butterfly. Planting a foot forward, the sharp swords were painted with the scarlet and must of blood that sprayed from Reiner and Berthold's necks. Both of their heads rolled off like melted ice cream scoops and thunked onto the floor.

Alistair had to cover his mouth. He leaped up to his feet and stammered as the girl turned back to face him.

"Oh, hey Alistair," Annie said as she licked her lips.

Alistair pointed at her with a trembling finger. "Hey? That's all you can say? You just decapita-."

"You knew what they were about to do, didn't you?" Annie said in a flat tone.

Alistair shrugged as his arms fell to his side. "I mean, I did. But that still doesn't make decapitation any easier to stomach! Merlin, Annie. You came from a messed up manga."

Annie tilted her head. "A what?"

Alistair frowned as he looked down at the dirt covering his tan boots. "That's right. You think it's real. But it has to be for you to exist in our world. But then...that means this world is real. But it's from a book created by a Japanese artist. So it's not real but it was made real? Or that author is from there or has some strange powers. Or maybe some dark wizard made a portal to another dimension an-."

"Alistair?"

Alistair shot a look to Annie. "Nothing! I didn't say anything!"

Annie rolled her eyes. "You're a weird guy, you know that."

"A lot has happened to me lately! Get off my back, Annie," Alistair complained. He turned his back to her and gestured up at the sky. "I need you to take me somewhere and promised I won't be bloody tortured or killed."

Annie blew out a deep breath. She stepped over to Alistair who was tensed up from stress. Standing next to him up to his shoulders, she crossed her arms and awkwardly eyed him.

"Did you..."

Alistair turned and faced her. She noticed his eyes were not quite as vibrant as before. Some of that may be from where they were currently, but she felt there was more to it.

"Did you want to talk? About it?"

Alistair shook his head. "I'm stuck in some dream land created by one of the other people involved in whatever the hell this is. I want to find what I need and get out. And it's tough. I haven't felt like doing much of anything recently."

Annie looked back up at the sky. "I'm not really good at this whole 'feelings' thing, but you should feel good that you are where you are. Some magical school and you don;t have to worry about food or anything like that. Also, you have friends that can help. At least you didn't have to face all of the Titans or get locked into some crystal for an eternity."

"That would suck," Alistair said. "I would have moved if I were you."

"Believe me. I did."

"Right," Alistair cringed to himself. "That was revealed in the later issues of the manga."

"The what?"

Annie and Alistair stared at each other. A small wave of understanding came across them as a gentle breeze drained out the roars of titans attacking in the distance.

Alistair could not help the sheepish smile that grew on his face. "You know, if you were real, you'd be an amazing Slytherin. Based on all you did in this world."

Annie slapped Alistair. "Let's just get out of here."

As they walked away, Marco Bodt did not know if he should celebrate not being killed this time, or if he should run and tell somebody that other universes existed. He decided to just hide inside a building for the remainder of the Battle of Trost.

* * *

Lex was beginning to get a little bored.

The raven-haired man yawned as he sprawled his thin frame out onto the couch of the Ravenclaw common room. He stared up at the wood panels that were nailed to the ceiling above. He stretched an arm out, his black sweater bunching up by his shoulders. A small frown creased his sunken face as he squinted at the tips of his fingers. His other hand rubbed at the velvet indigo material underneath him. The scent of honeysuckle permeated around him as the candles lining the common room smoldered in the early morning haze.

Lex prided himself on being up to all of the gossip and rumors of the castle. When it was heard that Hagrid was being replaced, he was the person that found out the lies that were being told about that. Any of the students, he had an extensive line of dirt that trailed to the graves of their social lives. Things that could ruin people, and things he found stored away in his head for his own personal amusement.

He flopped his arm back towards his side and allowed it to dangle just inches from the satin carpet of the floor. The circle of students that interacted with each other where getting in his nerves. Not that he was worried about any of their safeties minus Edmund, but not being in the now was like a small mosquito pricking at his pale skin. Nobody would tell him anything. Edmund had not talked to him in almost a month.

He knew a few not in the group of seven were aware of the situation. Lacie Burghley's brother, that arrogant Gryffindor, had been sulking around with his crew of knuckleheads surrounding him like a queen bee. The two Slytherin's that Leonhardt guy was friends with were out of limits as well. One, Lex did not want to mess with any kids under third year. He had some morals. Also, he was pretty sure that warning had already reached the others to not discuss anything with him. He knew the teachers caught on to his reputation, so secrets were not safe with him.

Yet, Edmund not telling Lex anything made a small pang in his chest throb. He and Edmund both shared a very interesting secret, and he figured that connection would allow them to share the rumors of the Castle. It frankly made him a bit alone.

He turned over to his side. Lacie, a girl that prided herself on appearance, seemed disheveled as she bounded in her black flats across the common room. Her leather bag thrown on her shoulder, her face was absent of any makeup as her light brown hair frizzed in the early morning humidity. She was in and out of his sight in a flash.

Lex frowned. Whatever was happening was keeping them up late at night. He deduced that much.

As the door to the Common Room opened. He heard the shuffling of another person entering as Lacie left. The door slammed shut.

A heavy bag of books slammed onto the wooden desk across from him. Lex gave a small smirk as he noticed who it was. He heaved himself to a seated position and brushed off a piece of lint on his black pants.

"Breaking curfew, Calista?"

The girl, wearing her school day robes, did not bother to glance behind her as she pulled out a few of the books and stacked them on top of each other. They were as thick as cinderblocks and had about as much dust coated between their pages.

"That's twice this week," Lex said as he grabbed a tea cup of pumpkin juice that sat on the mahogany coffee table in front of him. "That Disillusionment Charm won't work forever."

"Don't you have other things to sniff out than me," her voice said in a quiet tone as she looked down at her books away from Lex. "I don;t know anything about anyone."

"Oh, but not the usual gossip. Certainly not," Lex nearly purred as he took a drag of the pumpkin juice. "Things that involve the entire wizarding world."

Calista turned around, her face calm and steady as she glared at Lex. "You know, I expected you to find out things a lot quicker. You must be desperate if your just straight up asking me what is happening."

Lex shrugged as his smirk stayed tight on his dry lips. "I'm not asking for anything. I am offering my assistance. There are plenty of people that could help with your prob-."

"Anyone that can actually help already knows," Calista as she grabbed a book from her desk.

"Perhaps physically and within the bounds of rules," Lex said as he twirled the empty mug between his fingers. "But what about people that are willing to break the rules. The ones that will do whatever it takes to save Hogwarts? They are out there, and I can get them to assist."

Calista narrowed her eyes as she considered Lex's words. She had never been very close to the individual, steering clear as she thought Lex simply interested in only petty gossip that plagued most muggle high schools. She crossed her arms and peered at the smug male.

"And what do you want to help with, exactly?"

Lex released a small snicker as he stood up and placed the mug onto the coffee table. He practically sashayed as he moved across the room to stand in front of Calista, the girl just a hair taller than him. "I want to get rid of our resident werewolf problem."

Calista grunted as she felt his excited breath on her face. "So outting him?"

"For my self-preservation," Lex said. "I know he believes I know about him. And I'm worried that, come next full moon, he will be a little more agressive towards the people that know. This castle would be much safer without him, and I'm pretty sure he is the root cause of whatever is forcing you to go to the restricted area of the library. Plus, I know you were willing to do what it took when you cast that Unforgivable on him in the bathroom."

"Spying on people is considered rude," Calista said as eyes locked onto Lex's in a staring contest.

"You two were quite loud," Lex chuckled. "And I was bored that night. Sneaking out really has become easier since security relaxed our first years."

"Well, outting people without permission is considered rude as well," Calista said as she reflexively reached into her robe pockets for her wand. "What if I outted you and Edmund?"

Calista cheered mentally as Lex's smirk wavered and twitched like a buckling bridge about to collapse. "And why would you do that?"

"I'll do what it takes," Calista reminded Lex of his own words. "Plus, I need that werewolf. He's going to lead me to what I want. And when I get it, I can make sure all of this trouble ends and I can save the wizarding world. Him not being in the castle would not help that."

Calista turned back around to her tower of books and flicked the top one open. "Plus, I know you fantasize about Warren, too. So I think the mental anguish of seeing him every day for the rest of the year will be punishment enough for you."

Lex opened up his mouth, but no sound revealed itself. He pinched a small step backward, his socks digging into the carpet as the sun began to rise over the mountain range painted at the window next to the desk.

True, he thought Warren was extremely attractive, even with his scars and all, but he knew who he had the most allegiance to. Edmund and Lex had their relationship set in stone, and this person specifically was messing that up. Not just due to the fact that Edmund was now in this goose chase for a treasure, but Warren was around him more. That meant he saw Warren more. Hell, he may have realized his orientation when he first saw Warren after returning to Hogwarts in forth year. Eradicating Warren would make his feelings a lot less complicated, and it would also keep everyone safer.

That was it, he reasoned to himself. He did not care about Edmund per se. Nope, not one bit. He simply wanted to save himself and his toy of pleasure in the process. The one person he could call more than an acquaintance.

He shrugged off the remarks and clamped his smirk back onto his face. "I guess nobody is safe from the gossip mill, are they? But the funny thing about it is that nobody can tell right from wrong, nor can they tell believable from unbelievable. Warren being a werewolf is as believable as Dumbledore coming back to life or Charis Sparos ot being able to speak because she is a dark wizard...or maybe even you and Leonhardt."

Calista stopped and looked up at the mirror in front of her. She could see Lex's smug self staring right at the back of her head.

"What do you mean?"

Another chuckle. "Well, whose to say that you won't really do anything to get what you want? Whose to say or deny that you've been sleeping with Leonhardt since school started just so you could get a little fame."

"What did you just say?"

I have to admit, it would be a juicy rumor. Sleeping with a Slytherin just to get information to a treasure you're going to destroy right in his face? And after he was involved in a traumatic accident that left him disabled? That's pretty heartless and low, even for someone like me."

 _"_ _Silencio."_

Lex grabbed at his mouth as Calista fumed towards him. Her eyes pointed at him like daggers stabbing at his throat, he felt his lips glued shut as his vocal chords vibrated like a broken massage chair. Calista launched herself towards him. The tip of her wand sparked with dangerous fervor as she nudged Lex's nose, his eyes widened at the attack. She stopped just inches from his, her breathing calm and routine.

Lex put his hand up towards her face, almost like he was shielding himself from being attacked. Just as his hands rose up to her hair, she swatted them down to his side with her arm. The wand remained fixed on the crook of Lex's thin, sloped nose.

"You Americans talk way to much," she said as her voice lowered into a near whisper. "So listen to me for once. You will not get in the way of me getting this ring. You will not get in the way of me destroying it. And you will not mess with my life at all. You may not realize this, but there are two sides to the sword, Alexander. The sword that proves I will do whatever it takes to end this and save this school. One side of it is not caring what you have to do. Of making it my mission and not caring about the rules to do it. But the other side is the most dangerous side. It's the side that is smart. The side that decides what morals and rules to break and when. It's the side that is unpredictable. The side that tells a snake when to leave it's prey alone and then when to strike. And it's that side you won't want to see."

Calista took a deep breath as she stepped back. Her face relaxing, she flicked her wand and released Lex's voice from its prison. He massaged his throat as he wore an uneasy expression.

Magicking her books into the bag, Calista levitated the knapsack and travelled behind it. Without passing a glance, she ushered herself with the books up the stairs to the girl's dormitory.

Lex looked over to a marble bust of Rowena Ravenclaw, her face stoic and strong as she knew the scene that just unfolded, and yet did not seem concerned by it. Just her pupils discovering the secrets of life themselves.

Lex could not help the small giggle that he let out. He shuffled on his spot and faced the bust.

"I guess I spoke to soon when I thought things were getting boring."

He looked down at his fists. A lock of hair he had stolen sat in the center of his palm. Calista's hair. "Now to get this to my customer."

As Lex walked towards the door, he stopped himself just shy of the wall. His eyes wavered in the air like he was reading an invisible book.

 _So it's a ring their after._

* * *

 **So what is going on now?! What is Lex doing? Who is he doing it for? And why? Will any of this drama effect other stuff in the future? Let me know what you think!**

 **What about the two anime scenes? Where they interesting or entertaining?**

 **Please be sure to review! I understand I have not been as quick to update, but I really want all readers to know how special and important their reviews are! Plus, I am using quite a few characters from authors who are not commenting. I take no offense to that, but if you are still reading, please let me know what I can do to improve your experience. Let me know of any comments, concerns or suggestions you have.**

 **Also, any fan art, ideas, or referrals to other people to submit OCs and read through are much appreciated. In fact, I made a reference to an OC here I haven't even used yet! We'll see what happens there.**

 **BTW, I would much appreciate if you read and reviewed any of my other recent stories. Preferably my Hunger Games and Yuri On Ice ones, but I won't judge!**

 **Thank you. See you soon!**


	23. Planting The Seeds

The sirloin and eggs gleamed underneath the candle light that burned in the center of the oak table.

It was as delicious as Aisen remembered. The cahrred fat bubbled to the side as the slow grilled meat was lathered with juices that tickled his tongue. Slow roasted over many hours, the meat massaged the inside of his throat as he wolfed down the steak. The eggs, the normal sunny-side-up, spilled yellow as the yolk was punctured by his fork and ran down the whites of the egg and the plate like a lava river. Even the steam that obscured his vision of the rest of the kitchen wafted off the succulent scent of the humble but warm breakfast.

If there was one part of Argentina he missed, it was the food.

In the rigid wooden chair, he chewed on a tender piece of the steak and looked up and around. When he had arisen, he came to the empty kitchen and saw the single plate on the table. The kitchen was mainly the big room in the center of the small house. From the hand-stiched beige rug underneath the satin couch to the banana-leaf baskets filled with apples and oranges by the doorway, the assault of yellow was rivaled by the brilliant sunlight that shined outside. Paintings of his grandparents and the family matriarchs generations old hung above the pots of daisies and sunflowers that swayed with the quiet breeze flowing from the window behind Aisen.

Aisen kept chewing his mind almost one track as he swallowed.

This is as good as I remember.

They did this for you. Every single day. And here, with us, they will keep doing it.

I remember this room, too. I remember sitting on that couch.

Aisen smiled to himself as he rose up in his chair like a little child. Flecks of dust travelled down the sunbeams pointing at the couch like ants scurrying back to their home. Flashes of his parents reading him stories flowed through his head as he sniffled towards the furniture. He remembered hearing the news about gettign alittle sister. It was on that couch.

They really loved you, Aisen.

They did, but they are not here anymore.

But they can be. As soon as your friends get here, we can ensure they don't get in our way. In fact, I believe one of them may be here soon. So relax and leave it all to me.

The smattering of static made Aisen flinch.

He looked over to the corner of the expansive main room. Next to the couch was an old record player. It was reminiscnet of the Victorian-era style ones that were located in the Hogwarts common rooms. The needle skated along the spinning black record as pops fizzled to life through the speaker by itself.

Aisen froze as the deep horns and light piano sounds echoed out into the warm room. His fists gripped the metal fork in his hand as he felt his nose tighten up. His face reddened as he realized what was playing.

"The moment I wake up," the deep, voluptuous voice sang.

 _Before I put on my makeup_

She...she was obsessed with this song. Played it every night.

 _I say a little prayer for you._

 _And while I'm combing my hair now_

 _And wondering what dress to wear now_

 _I say a little prayer for you_

Forever. And Ever. You'll stay in my heart and I will love you.

The chorus had not lost any meaning on Aisen. For the years it had been since he heard the song, it made his tense up even further. The heartache. The lonliness. The need to stay strong for his sister. All of it was pardoned from him by this song and the promise of seeing them again.

As the song played, Aisen wiped away a tear from his cheek. All of the nights staying up and hoping he was just living a horrible nightmare. Were they even real anymore? Or was he finally crossing over into his dreams?

I just want to be back to normal again.

 _And everything will be. Everything will be as it should be soon._

* * *

"Get in the fucking robot, Edmund!"

"I don't want to!"

"Bitch, I will tase you!"

"Ritsuko, we can't tase the EVA pilots anymore."

Edmund gleamed a little bit of what the typical action manga was supposed to entail. A timid, nervous boy saving the universe in a robot was par for the course. However, as his arms strained from holding his body away from the cockpit of Unit One, the purple robot seemed to roar at him as steam billowed out of where a group of NERV agents were pushing him.

Edmund yelled out as they shoved him into the robot. He whipped around like a ballerina and leaped for the exit.

Only for the doors to slam shut and lock him in.

Edmund panicked as he smacked his hands on the cockpit door. He knocked on it like he was kneading the bread dough the house elves carted around in the kitchen. He heaved at the door as the neon lilac lights in the cockpit hummed to life. The disgusting LCL liquid spurted out from all corners and began to fill up the room.

"Wake me up," Edmund shouted up at the air. "Please! I don't want to get stabbed again!"

* * *

In Sword Art Online, Lacie was running around in circles like a drunk hyena. Her violet rapier swished through the thick air of Level Twenty as she vanquished a few orange blobs of monsters that populated the map.

"Piss off you freaks!" Lacie shouted as they evaporated into the digital ether.

Lacie seethed like an angry chimpanzee as she threw down her sword. Another level of defeating pointless monsters. It made her sick.

Kirito's dark eyes wider than dinner plates, he blinked as Lacie tried to straighten her hair.

"There's way too much moisture in this air," Lacie said, tugging at the frizzing curls in he hair. "Can't video games have less moisture?"

"That girl has a lot of pent up stress" Kirito whispered to Asuna next to him.

Asuna narrowed her eyes. "I think me and Lacie need to have a chat."

* * *

"You girls are...very cultured."

"Kya! He said I was cultured!

"No, he was talking to me!"

Callie grew a small smile on her face. She was still extremely awkward with flirting and being a casanova, but the girls at Ouran Academy ate up her words like the white chocolates that sat in the glass dishes on the mahogany coffee table in between them. She had no idea what she was preparing or searchinf for in this tory, but she planned on doing her best. All she knew was that the manga she was within was not particularly dangerous to her well-being, so she was grateful for that.

With the exception of the host club characters.

She felt warm fingers clamp around the twins wrapped an arm around each shoulder.

"It looks like our toy," one of twins started.

"Is growing up!"

Callie blushed as she felt the arms around her. She had to admit that her time in this dream world was not horrible. The people were genuinely nice once she got past their cold external shells and distracting wealthy decadence.

"Daddy!" The dramatic blonde with purple eyes shouted at the taller, dark haired bespectacled man. Make those devils stop harassing Callie."

"I don't know, Tamaki," Kyoya said with a low smirk. "I think Callie is enjoying this."

* * *

"Stay away from my man, you bitch!"

Lacie grunted and put her hands on her hips. "Look, ginger. As incredible and amazing as this scrawny kid is, you can have him. I just have to beat this game, and we are barely halfway there."

Asuna narrowed her eyes and whipped out a knife. "Who are you? You don't know anything about RPGs, but you know all about us and SAO."

"Hey, guys. There's some little kid outside the house."

Asuna blinked as she looked down the hallway of the log cabin towards Kirito. Lacie rolled her eyes.

"Whatever it is, we aren't adopting it."

* * *

"Hey, Laila."

Laila never thought she would do so much running in her life. After getting trapped by a magical barrier in front of a train station, she and the rest of the Fairy Tail members were stuck. Not that she cared too much. However, after a day of running away from monsters and fighting, she was exhausted. She never thought her dreams would make her tired, but she planned on taking a long draught of sleeping potion in the morning.

"What is it, Pink?" she asked in a pointed way to Natsu.

The boy grinned. "Happy told me that Virgo gave me a key to give to you."

Laila raised an eyebrow. She had realized that spirits were able to be possessed and controlled in this world. A real shame that could not happen in the real world. "Will it get me out of here sooner?"

Natsu tossed the key over to Laila. She stared down at the key.

"Get on with it!" Erza shouted.

"Shut up," Laila snapped. Then, she turned away and coughed. "Erza, can you kill me again?"

"Huh?"

Laila sighed. "Well, it's just that I forgot how to summon this spirit, so I need to read up and be reminded."

* * *

Thin, black argyle shoelaces pattered on the marble floor. With every click, Callie hurried across the large meadow courtyard as students gosspied and studied together in heaps like gnomes plotting their next mischief. The deep blue sky mocked her from above with every step over the mildew-soaked grass in the early noon sun. Her pale face was reddened from the trot she was in, her bags hanging heavy from her back.

Sitting in the corner of the courtyard, a gang of Gryffindors laughed at a crude joke made by one of its members. However, the tall leader in the center of the circle squinted when he saw Callie in such a rush as she hopped past some students sitting on the grass.

Curious, Robbie stood up causing his gang to zip up like a purse. He stepped over the half-circle of his minions and followed her.

With a copy of the first chapter of Ouran High School Host Club in hand, Callie rounded the corner of a narrow hallway wedged next to the Charms classroom. The shade of the indoor corridors made her shiver in hr Hufflepuff robes with cool air flowing through the drafted corridors. Down the narrow chute was a high bay window that stretched up to the cavernous stone ceiling. Being on the first floor, it only showed a the grounds behind the Owelry tower. Another beautiful meadow that licked the tree line leading to the forests outside of Hogwarts. At the window was a large dark shape that stared outside.

Standing by the brilliant light, Callie's body was obscured into a dark shape. Robbie shielded his eyes and crouched around the corner to eavesdrop. A few students would saunter past on the main hallway, laughing through the day about their annoying classes or the latest prank.

"We're running out of time,' Warren's deep voice said calmly.

Callie stood next to Warren and gazed up at his face. His expression stoic, he peered out at the meadow.

"I've noticed it, too. How we've been asleep longer than usual. I slept through first period and just woke up. I think at some point, we'll be stuck in these dreams and not wake up. Like how Aisen has been asleep for the past week."

Robbie looked down at the stone on the floor and processed the words. He noticed that the others in the group had been sluggish in the day. It was not just the oddity of reading that muggle garbage from Japan, but the oversleeping and lack of energy they had. Leonhardt was understandable since he was still recovering from his encounter the month previous. However, he noticed even the goody two-shoes Edmund was more apt to kick around in his bed and study some strange story about robots destroying some other evil devices from space.

"If we don't get through these challenges soon, then..." Callie trailed off.

Warren narrowed his eyes. "What is he doing out there?"

Callie looked out the window. By the base of the Owlery Tower, Alistair was spotted by her. He sat on the grass, his robes wrinkled and bunched up as he stared down at something etched into the ground. His face melancholy and his eyes sunken in with dark circles tinged underneath them, Alistair was a statue while his vision remained locked onto the object.

"Attack On Titan is tough," Callie said. "A lot of death and destruction. And not the fun kind like in some of the other dreams."

"I didn't know death was supposed to be fun."

"I guess Aisen is teaching us new things," Callie said with a watery smile towards the window. "Alistair likes being by the plaque by the tower. The one about the Slytherins who died in the Battle. It would have been kind of noble, though. I feel like he's the kind of guy that would have rushed in to try and save the day."

Robbie nearly gagged behind his corner. Leonhardt could not save a piece of bread from being shoved into a toaster. Considering his ego, he would have been the first one to surrender to the Death Eaters and try to save his own skin.

"You know, he told me about Lacie's brother a few days ago."

Robbie furrowed his brow at the mention of him. This could be useful knowledge.

"They don't get along," Warren said.

"A bit of an understatement," Callie said. "Robbie hates him straight up. More than anyone in the castle."

Robbie shrugged to himself. He could not debate that idea.

"But he said he didn't hate Robbie."

Robbie tilted his head in inquisition. He reared up on his legs and inched forward like a curious lion spying on prey.

"Really?" Warren asked.

"He wouldn't go into much detail," Callie said. "But, he mentioned that he sort of admired how he was protective of Lacie. And he also mentioned how it seemed Robbie had it all figured out, from his future in Quidditch to all the friends he has. He says he wants to get beyond petty differences."

Warren shoved his hands into his robe pockets, his blank stare pointed at Alistair outside. Warren kept to himself through most of his tenure at Hogwarts. However, he required no assitance as his return to the castle after his attack made many people shy away from him. He enjoyed his solitude, but that feeling of unease and disquiet thumped in his chest harder as the days roleld down the hills of autumn.

"What would you have done if you were there?"

A small shadow from a passing cloud jumped over Warren's face as he gazed down at Callie's innocent face.

"I think it was a full moon that night."

Robbie spied with great interest as his fists gripped the corner's edge tight enough to whiten his knuckles. Being reminded of Warren's infliction brought to his attention the threats put on him by Warren.

He tried his best to avoid any contact with him. However, his thoughts also turned to what that shy Hufflepuff had said. Leonhardt having a smart thought in his head wasn't troubling enough, but to actually think highly of him? That confused him more than anything. Yes, he was giving the stupid Slytherin a reprieve from being punished for crossing him again and again, but that was solely due to their fates being in his and the other six student's hands. Not to mention, Quidditch season would be starting soon and that meant he could show no mercy towards anybody.

With a shake of his head, Robbie crouched around the corner back to his group. They were stent going to reveal any more information he wanted to hear.

When he left, Warren's ears twitched like the wings of a floating ladybug that fluttered off a blade of grass outside.

Callie noticed this and blew out a breath. "Is he gone?"

Warren nodded.

Callie flashed a toothy grin. "I was wondering if he would come out and confront you. He probably thought you were trying to eat me or something."

"He is rude, too," Warren said while he clasped his hands behind his back. "Spying on students like that."

"Well, hopefully," Callie pushes a strand of her hair behind her ear. "That strokes his ego enough to get him to let up on us and Alistair. We can't have his gang beat him up, can we? And Alistair would probably have a stroke if he found out that Robbie thought he told me those things."

Warren shrugged. "I don't think I would have done anything," Warren finished as he looked back out the window. "That night during the battle."

Callie could not help the nervous giggle bubbling from her thin throat. "I would like to think I would have done something, but I probably would be in the common room with everyone else. I doubt my knowledge in Ancient Runes could help there too much."

With a flick of her wand, a small translucent silver liquid with the he viscosity of gravy floated out of her backpack and in front of Warren. He stared at his distorted reflection and raised an eyebrow.

"So, I have an idea."

Warren tapped the vial and made the liquid crawl up and around the inner surface.

"This ancient rune, this ring. It's connected us on a metaphysical level. So maybe the reason we sleep longer is partly is being entrapped in the dreams, but it's also because we are getting better at our individual tasks."

"Okay."

"So," Callie pointed at the vial.

"Sleeping potion."

"We take it all together," Callie said. "That way, we enter the dream worlds together. What would happen? Would we be thrown into some crazy mish-mash of these dreams, or would we just all fall asleep at the same time? I'm not sure, but I think the only way we can defeat this thing and bring back Aisen is all together. So, tonight, I think we should all try it."

Warren grimaced at the thought of taking the potion. He generally was not a fan of any potions especially since the taste of Wolfsbane was always in the back of his throat. At this point, he enjoyed that taste more than chlorine, and he would rather hang himself off the Owlery tower outside than deal with his dream anymore.

"It's worth a shot," Callie said. "By the way, have you finished your manga?"

Warren shook his head. "It was in fact stolen from me."

Callie blinked. "Stolen? Like, somebody took it without your permission?"

"Right out of my hands."

"Someone stole Free-Iwatobi Swim Club?"

Warren nodded.

A pause.

"Why would anybody want that shit?"

* * *

Warren did not say too much to anybody. His parents would only receive a letter a month if they were lucky. Usually, it only detailed that he was generally okay and had no incidents. His professors would cheer if they received more than a one word response to a question. Finally, despite prodding front he others in their group, Warren did not share much in the way of personal information.

Rumors about Warren did not bother him to much contrary to belief. They could whisper all they wanted, but nobody had any concrete evidence to pinned Warren to any strange afflictions. Up until this year, of course.

All of that is to remind people that Warren truly did not care if somebody knew about his pursuits for the ring, only that they did not get in the way.

So when a dark-skinned girl in a skin-tight black suit with an Ebony masquerade mask wrapped around their face, Warren could only muster a small bit of concern.

"Hello, Mister Monger."

Warren tilted his head like a confused animal. For some reason, he could not place the girls identity. He could have sworn he saw the girl before; that she was a student was irrefutable. However, stuck in the middle of the hallway leading up tot the Ravenclaw common room, the girl had smiled with pearl teeth as she cocked her hip out and sauntered towards him. Indeed, she had on a mask that obscured her identity. It had little points and divers at the end that resembled that of a cat. The rest of her appearance was simple with the plain black suit hugging her skin like fur on a fox. Frankly, Warren thought it might be uncomfortable to walk around in that leather material, but he was not to focused on fashion sense at the moment. The lanterns lighting up the dim corridor were fading away from their orange tint, giving off a copper singe that illuminated the area right before curfew was to begin.

"uh...hi?"

The girl giggled. "Thank you for your manners. Now, I know very little about you, but I come to you asking for something."

"I haven't done any homework, so you can't get answers from me."

"But you do have something I want."

Warren rolled his eyes as he felt his hand thumb the wand in his pocket. The girls honey eyes were wide with ambition and want as she giggled at the uptight man before her.

"Look, lady, if it's money, I'm broke as we-."

"the manga.I want your manga."

Warren blinked. The girl moved forward into a beam of shadow that creased across the cobblestone floor.

"The manga?"

"Yes. The one of the swimmers. I want it."

The werewolf narrowed his grey eyes. "You like some weirdo that's attracted to drawings?"

"Thats not weird," the girl nearly shouted. Warren took a step forward at the shout, ready to pounce in case this became a fight.

However, the girl chuckled and brushed her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I just want the manga, and I'll be on my w-."

Before she could finish, Warren slid the book across to her leather boots.

"Take it," he growled. "I'm done with it anyway."

* * *

"You got mugged? In Hogwarts?"

"I was done with it," Warren said. "I know what happens at the end and what I have to do. And besides, she seemed like she needed it. That, or we would've been in a fight. And I don't give enough of a shit to do that right now."

Callie blew out a deep sigh. "Great. Now, we can add a cat burglar to the list of people in this castle. Well, if all she wanted was the book, maybe she just likes manga."

She clasped the vial of the potion in her hand and settled it back into her beige knapsack. With a nod, she looked over at Warren who was still glancing out of the window. Alistair hasn't just gotten up and began to leave his spot on the grass.

Callie put her hand on Warren's shoulder. Despite showing no facial emotion, she noticed how he tended up under her touch.

"If you have any problems, we can help Warren. People won't turn away from you."

"How do you know that?"

Callie looked down at her feet. She had no answer.

She let go and brushed off her spot back down the hallway. Re-entering the bustle of the main travel point for students, she left Warren in the dark corner, his black silhouette blocking the light at the end.

* * *

 **So there we go. Another one down.**

 **By the way, the images of these characters are just really funny. Alistair in AOt gear. Callie at Ouran Academy. Edmund in NGE. I just think those are funny images!**

 **So more stuff! Mostly checking in on people. But what's gonna happen next? What did you think of Callie and Warren maybe tricking Robbie? And what's up with this strange girl stealing manga? Will Callie's plan work?**

 **Also, bonus points if you know the song played in Aisen's dream.**

 **Of course, please review! It's so important to me, and it gives me the motivation to get updates as soon as possible! Plus, any comments or suggestions are appreciated!**

 **Be sure to refer people as well! OC submissions are still open, and any suggestions, fan art, reviews or comments are very much appreciated! Also, if you have any questions about anything, let me know!**

 **Thank you! See you soon!**


	24. Taking A Plunge

People liked Sree Gupta for an array of reasons.

to the professors, Sree was a model student. She was not the smartest, and her grades were not always the best, but she tried with all her might. Her homework was always on time, and her projects always showed a smooth attention to detail that made a famous chef blush with anticipation. Her polite tone of voice and her smile made her the darling of any class, and she was always eager to help out when needed.

The girls liked Sree because she was always there in a pinch. Whenever someone needed a hair clip or a touch of concealer or a wake up mug of dark coffee, Sree always seemed to have a plethora of supplies prepared for emergencies. She would go as far as to help somebody outline their essays if asked and would supply the dark and normally frigid Slytherin common room with warm cookies.

The younger students like me her because she was not in any way patronizing. She seems to treat every person the same regardless of age. In fact, she was more than happy to help the younger students with finding their way if lost or abandoned on the massive castle. If there were loners, she wasn't usually the first person to bother them with conversation. There was no malice or catch when it came to conversation with her.

The older guys liked Sree because she was hot! Plain and simple. From the wheat gold of her light bronze skin to her subtle curves to her lengthy and muscular legs, she had the looks to put a centerfold girl from a magazine to shame and force her into hiding. It was no secret that she was in first place for the guys on their "available girls in the castle" list. Even the way she walked, her hips had a teasing swing to them that made her seem like a ballerina performing a precarious dance for all to witness.

What was a secret to many was that Sree was a thief.

It started at the beginning of the year in divination class. Most found it the best period to sneak in some sleep before the "real" classes throughout the day. However, as she stretched out her scroll of pal reading definitions onto the velvet tablecloth under her soft hands, she smiled at the different gestures and their meanings.

Divination brought an effusive joy to her that made her shiver within the midst of the warm strawberry incense that polluted the air. She was the top student in that class, but the aura and mystique fascinated her to no end. The idea that her fate and dreams could hinge on the location of stars that had no care which way they bounded in their orbits made her eyes gleam over with excitement. She would follow whatever path was laid out for her.

So when her tarot cards spelled out that she needed to steal certain artifacts in Hogwarts, she did not question a thing.

Okay, so she did consult with Professor Trelawney. After class, she stayed behind and folded her cards up into her soft hand. As Trelawney squeaked out the weekly homework and reminders to fill out their dream journals, Sree bounded up to her, a hyper rabbit sensing a carrot in her sights.

After a pointless talk that only confirmed her suspicions, she turned to do her job. The only question was how to get it done. Sree had a couple of secrets behind her, and one of them involved quite a tragic backstory that she blocked out of her mind whenever she saw the Black Lake shimmering underneath the early autumn sun.

Her smooth, sharp-jawed face formed an inquisitive frown as she looked down at the tarot cards. She knew that the nerve damage in her hip could not allow her to run. Without a thought, she felt the small stripes of scars around her hip from the accident. Running and snatching objects would be out of the question. She would need to use some kind of trickery. So, when a young kid in her House named Julian got busted with a sack of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, she decided to snatch that from the Hogwarts authorities before they could fully confiscate it.

One weekend off, she took another trip down to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes were she found just what she was looking for. The newly-patented confusion suit. It was basically a black catsuit that made people not recognize who you were. No, it did not change your appearance or voice or any other features. However, it would make the person looking at you not able to recognize your identity, almost as if a person's mind had blocked out that part of their comprehension skills in their brain. She was wondering why the suit was so tight and if it was truly necessary. When she asked the question, the man behind the counter who happened to be one of the founders of the store chatted out a husky laugh that reminded her of a cackling parrot.

So it was with great anticipation that she stood in the balcony of the Owlery. The sun had begun to set underneath the horizon of pointed deciduous trees waving in the whistling twilight breeze. She gripped the stone wall before her, the early night stars beginning to glow in the periwinkle sky. She loved this part of the castle because the air was so crisp, and the cooing of the owls behind her soothed her nerves.

Footsteps clacked onto the stone steps heading up the Owlery. Based on the time, she made a slow turn towards the room and leaned onto the wall. Sree clutched the thick book in her hand as a student with a coy smile trudged his way up the steps. Once he reached the surface, he stepped across the hay-sullied floor and out towards the balcony.

"I'm quite surprised you're as successful as you are," Lex said as he swung his body like a small child before he stopped in the large archway leading to the balcony. "You're not the acrobat enigma I thought you to be."

"But you still don't know who I am," Sree said, flashing her ivory teeth at Lex with a grin. "I thought you prided yourself on knowing the Castle."

Lex chuckled. "There are things I'll never know about this castle. Like what was in the bread pudding yesterday. Really horrible for some reason."

Sree took the book from behind her back and waved it in front of her. Lex's eyes lit up with recognition as he held his palms up in a catching position. She swung the book forward and tossed it through the darkening light around them. The Ravenclaw boy snagged it with one hand and peered at the cover, the book cradled in his arms.

"This will be perfect for my plans," Lex said as he rubbed his thumb over the cover.

"He was pretty open to giving it to me," Sree said as she placed a hand on her hip. "Kinda happy, to be honest. Which is cool. I like seeing people happy."

Lex laughed with the book in his hands. He had formulated a new plan, one that was as devious as any other in the entire castle. The book was a major piece of it, but he felt that there would be a lot less anxiety if it worked.

He shoved a hand into his robe pocket and pulled out a clear plastic bag. In it, a few strands of tan hair sat crushed in the receptacle. He threw that bag over to Sree. Unfortunately, since it was hair in a plastic bag, the object did not fly and landed in front of Sree's feet. The bagslid to a halt in front of her. She crouched down on her haunches and poked at the thin plastic over the lock of hair.

"That is an interesting bag. A muggle concoction."

"One of the greatest things they've ever invented," Lex said with a smug grin. "That and the film camera."

"Plastic bags and cameras," Sree said as she crouched down to pick up the baggie of hair. "As fun as this chat had been, I have to get this to my other client."

"I feel like we could make a pretty good team," Lex said with a wave of his hands. "What are your goals, mysterious stealing lady? Are you looking for the object as well?"

Sree narrowed her eyes and scoffed. "Things like that are a little boring to me. I'm more focused on what I can see and have right now."

Lex twirled around on his toes and began to saunter away. "Well, if you ever see a mysterious and evil ring hanging around, go ahead and hand it over to me."

"Only for a price, Alexander."

* * *

Gathered in the Hospital Wing, the ivory orb that is the moon loomed over the silver bars of the headrest on the feather cot. The frost outside the window dribbled down and flashed a dull grey before disappearing underneath the brick frames. The silver beams of light trickled through the opening and refracted down onto the occupied bed. A stiffness in the air lathered itself over the dim candlelight that burned on the mahogany nightstand next to the bed. An abandoned schoolbag sat in front of it.

Tucked into the grey sheets like a caterpillar, Aisen had a flat, almost serene expression on his face as he breathed out in shallow thumps every two or three seconds. His body almost seemed frozen other than that.

Alistair examined the bottle of translucent silver liquid in the small vial. His eyes strained to see it underneath the soft lighting of the candle. He shook the vial, the potion sloshing around.

The rest of the group stood in a semi-circle around Aisen as if he was a deity to worship at an altar. All of them still in their school uniforms, they seemed to share different opinions of this new plan. Behind them, Headmistress McGonnagall oversaw the operation, rocking in a wooden chair as she tapped her finger on her elbows.

"I think this is too drastic," Edmund said next to Callie as he bit his fingernails. "Besides, weren't we all going to fall asleep soon anyway?"

"I'm tired of having to deal with those idiots every night," Laila said. "It's best if we get this over with."

"So, Miss O'Connell," McGonagall butted in from her chair. "What is the plan exactly other than purposefully poisoning yourselves."

Callie cleared her throat, a small blush growing on her pale face. "I was thinking that, since we are all connected, maybe being able to enter the dream worlds Aisen has put us through would allow us to help each other. Worse case scenario, we just go into our individual dreams separately."

"The sooner we get to Aisen, the better," Lacie said as she tugged on her hair. "Plus, I really haven't gotten any sleep lately and it's affecting my complexion."

Edmund washed his eyes around the group standing by the bed. He had very little choice in the matter but to take the sleeping potion with them. He would rather all of this would end right then and there as opposed to many more days or weeks down the line. He glanced over at Alistair. The blonde was frowning down at Aisen's quiet form as he dozed the night past. His focus seemed to drift like the murky clouds softening the moon rays floating through the window glass.

"Be careful."

The groups looked up at Edmund, who had directed his statement to Alistair. He raised an eyebrow.

"You mean, me be careful?" Alistair pointed to himself.

Edmund gritted his teeth and flailed his hands in front of him. "It's just that, this thing could target you because you've dealt with one of these before! That's all I'm saying!"

The rest of the group gave Edmund odd stares.

"Right," Alistair said.

Everybody unclasped the rubber cork in the small vial. Edmund took a whiff of the liquid. It had no scent whatsoever as it sloshed in the glass.

It personally made Edmund quite scared of what he was getting into. He had never taken any potions of this magnitude to sleep before, and he was worried of all the things that may go wrong. What if it was brewed wrong? What if they got stuck in the dream? What if they couldn't get to Aisen and the Sin was able to take him over? Would it be able to reach the ring? And what if he missed classes the next day? He had an essay in Charms due!

Also, why was everybody staring at him?

"Are you done?" Laila asked.

Edmund blinked. "Huh?"

Oh. He had just said all of that out loud.

"Let's just take it," McGonnagall said. "On three."

She counted down to three. When she hit zero, the six students gripped their vials and downed the liquid. To Edmund, the viscious liquid slunk down his throat like melted vanilla ice cream, and with the same flavor.

His head tipped back, he downed the rest of the vial and reared his head back to normal level. As he did so, his legs were noodles as the muscle in them gave out like thin twigs holding up a castle. He heard the thump of his heart in his ears slow to a crawl as his eyes dimmed out of focus. He noticed the others were in the same situation in front of him. He rocked on his feet before he noticed them slipping on the marble floor. GRavity pulled him backwards like a magician snatching a rabbit from a top hat as he felt the rush of the still air cut on his back. He fell, the last thing going through his vision was the swimming brick and stone that lined the tresses of the Hospital Wing ceiling.

His head slammed onto the ground.

* * *

And then it bounced back back up into dirt.

Edmund was curved over some odd object as he gasped, the bright orange around him blinding his sight. He was bent back with his gaze up at the tan sky that appeared to be in permanent sunset. He heaved his head up and looked down his body. Half of it was buried in a heap of black robes that had fallen from the heavens. IT took Edmund a second, but he realized that the students had been cumulated into a mound as they wrestled their limbs to untangle themselves.

Around them, broken buildings and busted windows signaled a complete warzone. The old Bavarian architecture was dirty and ramshackled from abuse. Permanent smog coated the air as Edmund tried to grasp whose limbs were where in the scrum.

"Stop grabbing my leg!" Warren grunted.

"Asshole," Laila shouted. "That's my leg."

"I have dirt all over me!" Lacie shrieked.

"Help," Callie squeaked. "I can't breathe!"

Under the whole pile, Alistair clawed at the dirt with his metal arm, the chrome fingers digging small trails through the grime. With a heave, he poked his head out of the pile and ballooned his lungs with air. His hair now frazzled from the crash, he sucked in the muggy air as he gazed out as his surroundings. He peered up at the other students on top of him, noticing all of them were still wearing their robes except for him.

Noting his tan collar stuck up and dug into his cheek, he wiped away the grime from his dry lips and examined t sight before him.

"Alistair?"

Alistair looked up from the grime-encrusted Earth towards the middle of the broken road. AS his eyes regained their focus, the zeroed in on the silhouette of a short blonde with rips in her beige jacket. She had her hands on her propulsion tank as she stared at the scrum, her ice-blue eyes wide with surprise as a crash echoed out many blocks down the street.

"Annie!"

With a wide grin, Alistair slithered his way from the pile and lifted himself to his feet. He darted forward through the wisps of thin dirt ribbons sifting around in the wind. He tromped across the broken street and avoided some of the broken Ignoring the explosions and crashing buildings in the distance, he reached Annie and flung his arms around her waist in a vice grip of a hug.

"Annie!" Alistair said as he rested his head in the crook of her neck. "I was so worried! I thought you died after seeing you stomped on last night."

The pale girl twitched at the sudden contact. "Uh...can you stop hugging me?" Annie tightened up like a dried squid. "We aren't at that level yet."

Alistair opened his eyes and took a quick step back. "Oh, sorry."

She tipped her head over the the other side of the street, where the heap of Hogwarts students was still untangling themselves. "Who are those morons?"

Alistair pointed over at the pile of people. "Oh, yes. Those are the ones that are in this whole thing with me. Lovely people. All of them."

Annie grunted. "I hope you don't expect me to keep them alive. I have my hands full with you. But we're not far from the basement we have to get to, so let's go."

The other had finally gotten themselves dusted off and untangled. They examined their surroundings, realizing they were in one of the stories. Warren kicked a rock by his foot. He was already annoyed by the heat that pilfered down on his broad shoulders.

"Hey guys," Alistair said from across the street while cupping his hands. "We need to get to a basement! It has what I think will get us out of here!"

"Who is that girl?" Edmund asked in a frantic voice.

Bang!

Just as Alistair finished speaking, a crash erupted into a smoking fireball as the building behind him and Annie began to tumble like rocks down a cliff in a mudslide. The roof collapsed down like a melting block of ice with the rest of the facade crumbling down. Charcoal chalk erupted as smoke billowed as the building fell down into a pile of ash. The smoke expanded into the air, obscuring the area where the building was previous.

Alistair turned at the sound of a massive groan roaring from behind. A tall shadow loomed as the pillows of smoke dissipated and revealed a horrifying sight. A giant humanoid creature with an androgynous, almost grotesque expression on his smiling face. It looked human but had no semblance of what a normal human would appear to be. Mostly because it was about twenty feet tall, but it helped that the skin on the creatures appeared only half formed, scarlet and singing as if it had overcome a recent sunburn.

It grinned down at the humans, who were uniformly frozen in fear.

"Titans!" Alistair shouted.

The rest of the group had reactions varying from fear to defense. Mainly, they decided running was the best option. Edmund sprang into action and attempted to flee. However, he did not anticipate Warren to be still staring up at the Titan. He crashed into him, which caused Warren to stumble back and knock a catatonic Lacie onto the ground. She let out a squeak as she slammed the back of her head into a puddle of stagnant mud. Her hair now matted with earth, she shrieked.

"The fuck are those?" Lacie shouted.

"Damn, those things are ugly," Laila said as she pivoted on her heels. She reached an open window sill of an abandoned shop and dived like a football player into the room, hoping the Titan would not eat her.

Meanwhile, Callie was completely beside herself in horror. She stood, her mouth so wide an eagle could make a nest inside. Her vocal chords shut down, and any muscular movement from her was involuntary at this point. Her legs were iron that planted her onto the cobblestone street as she gaped up at the monster.

Alistair looked over at Annie. She prepared her 3DMG gear and began to turn on the fuel tank. As she knotted together the harness around her legs, she shot a look at Alistair.

"You think you can do it?"

"You know," Alistair shrugged with a sheepish smile as he tugged at his itchy wool collar. "I'm not really a fighter like you. I just learned how to use this equipment, and I think I'd just prefer to just get out of this world as soon as I c-."

Smack!

From his side, Alistair winced at the sharp pain in his cheek. He patted his right cheek and felt the blushing flesh tender and stinging. He gaped at Annie, her ice blue eyes locked into Alistair's brilliant greens. She grabbed him by the lapels of his collar and leaned up on her tiptoes.

"The others will die if you don't do this. And then we repeat this all over again another night. So you can stop being a bitch and help them get to the basement, or you can stay here and die over and over."

He tilted his head towards the gang across the street. As still as marble statues, they watched Alistair to see what his next move would be. It was his dream, after all. he would have the most say in this matter. Not only that, but the gravity of the moment weighed on him. Slytherin had an unsightly reputation of being selfish and cowardly. Before this year, Alistair preferred the term "self-preservation."

But Alistair was not like that! He swore he was not, he thought to himself as he bit his thin lip and looked at the gang's faces. He loved his House, but he was a different person. And he always thought of himself that way, even with the House being under as much surveillance and scrutiny with other people. He was just a Sixth Year that minded his own business. Right now, this group of misfit Hogwarts students were counting on him to keep them safe, and there was no running from it even if he wanted to.

There was nothing wrong with being Gryffindor once in a while.

Alistair's face steeled over in resolve. With a deep breath, he unsheathed the two blades from their holsters and flashed them in the air, the reflection of towering flames in the distance causing them to gleam.

"Let's jam."

Before they took off, Annie groaned and facepalmed. "Are you serious? 'Let's jam?' Where'd you even hear that stupid expression?"

Alistair shot a look over at the others and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Everyone! Down the street is a destroyed building with dark blue shutters. Go into the basement of it and find...something!"

"Find what?" Laila shouted from the window opening.

Alistair gulped. "I...I'm still not sure yet. But you need to find it."

As soon as he said that, the Titan roared behind him. He and Annie turned around and flipped on the gauge in their military gear. With a heave, he pressed a silver button and shot up into the air like an exploding top.

Alistair rocketed up and flashed his swords into the air. The titan glared at him and raised up a beefy hand. Alistair shot one of the wires by his side towards the left of the remaining facade of the destroyed building. He zoomed towards the other side of the beast, missing the swipe of the Titans hand by inches. The wind rushed past him while he braced himself for the landing on the wall.

He slammed his feet onto the surface of the building. His head felt light. He took a short breath as he was positioned sideways on the building, the world turned on it's side .

Looking up, he came eye-to-eye with the Titan, who roared and kicked the back of the building.

Alistair yelped as the foundation collapsed. He began to fall back before shooting the cable lines back out above him. One of them latched onto the Titan's eye, the metal claws digging into the gelatinous iris. The titan howled like a beaten gorilla and it jumped on it's legs over the foundation. As smoke and debris blew up like a smokescreen of dust, Alistair pushed upward through the smoke and released the cable. Before the Titan could regain it's bearings, Alistair released it and flew upwards over twenty feet over the crown of its head.

Alistair looked down at the top of the bald scalp of the beast. He bit his lip with a taught grin pressed onto his face. His eyes gleamed with mischief as he felt the momentum in his body halt over the world. He saw the horizon well out in all ways past him. The giant walls of the world seemed minuscule by comparison as the smoking sun started to set underneath them.

He began to drop down towards the Earth. The air enveloped him as his uniform flapped in the wind. His body was pointed downward, and he plunged like a champion diver into a pool of concrete. The wind whistled in his ears as he timed his descent. He was now just feet over the Titan as he came down like a missile.

"Hey, peabrain," Alistair shouted.

The titan looked up just in time for Alistair's twin swords to pierce right into the Titan's eye.

Alistair kept himself held up over the surface of the eye with the swords. They had entered into the monster with the ease of toothpicks into a person's gums. Smoke blew out of the hole made by the impact. he expected a scream/

Except nothing happened. The Titan kept looking right at Alistair.

Then, as quick as lightening, it's giant hands wrapped around Alistair and yanked him right towards the mouth of the beast.

"You idiot!" Laila shouted from underneath the battle. "Have you not read this manga! You're supposed to slice the nape!"

Alistair looked down, struggling to spot the group in the fists of the Titan. However, when he turned, he had a small grin as the fist moved closer to the mouth.

"I know," he said with a chuckle.

Then, he was thrown into the mouth. But before he was shoved inside, he grabbed with his left arm the top teeth of the monster. He gripped onto the slippery surface of the teeth, it's saliva and rotted core making it tough to grasp. He planted his feet on the square surface of the bottom teeth and wedged himself in the opening. He struggled to hold it open and propped himself through the opening. The pressure and power of the jaw was too powerful, but he would need to hold it for just a few more seconds.

"Now, Annie!" he shouted

The weight made him buckle his knees. Then, he fell over. The jaw snapped shut.

"No!" Edmund shouted as he saw the Titan consume him.

His arm, sliced and chomped off, caromed down and landed right on the street. It clanged onto the ground, limp and lifeless as the group beneath him watched in horror.

However, that was enough time for Annie to come in and slice the nape of the of Titan's neck. With a final roar, the Titan shouted out. Like a drunk pub-goer, it swayed in the quiet breeze before tilting over towards it's front. It came down right in the place of the flattened building and slammed down. A crater dug into the earth, and the broken bits of rock and brick fluttered up before crashing down around the dead Titan.

Silence.

Nobody moved or breathed. The group just witnessed a horrible sacrifice. Callie was on the verge of tears as she hid behind Warren like a frightened child. The werewolf's grey eyes were wide, supposed and even a bit remorseful at the bloodied scene before their feet.

It wasn't a sacrifice, though, Edmund thought to himself. It's just a dream, right? Don't things work out in this world? He wouldn't actually be dead. Unless the rules changed when they came in together.

Regardless, he felt his legs become spaghetti as he collapsed onto his knees. He hadn't even said his true feelings to him.

Annie swung back down and landed right in front of the Titan's mouth. She walked over, cool as a cucumber, towards the mouth and knocked on the flesh.

"Alistair," Annie said. "Stop being dramatic and get out here."

With a grunt, Annie separated the rows of teeth. Right behind them revealed Alistair, a grin on his face as he wiped a piece of dirt of his shoulder. He clmibed out of the dead cockpit of the titan and whistled as he adjusted his shirt.

"That would've sucked if that was my real arm," Alistair said. I just hope my metal one in the real world is still there."

"But did we really have to re-enact that part with Eren being eaten?"

"Gotta make the fans happy," he said with a sly wink to Annie.

The gang could not help but feel relief wash over them like a waterfall cleansing the grime from their bodies. He was stupid and reckless, but he was alive.

Alistair waved over to the group as if he was inviting them for tea time. "Hey guys,"

"You okay?" Lacie squeaked as she covered her mouth. The stench of the steaming, rotting Titan flesh was unbearable.

"Yes," Alistair said. "But I must ask, weren't you all supposed to be going somewhere?"

* * *

 **As DJ Khaled says, ANOTHER ONE!**

 **Thank you so much, and I hope you enjoy this! What will happen next? What do you think? What do you want to happen next? The answer is yours!**

 **Also, did you notice the reference to Sorcerers Stone? What Ron said to the Troll? Just checking!**

 **Also, please REVIEW! It is imperative to review! Get others to do so! I will notice that and take that into consideration when I write! Any suggestions, comments, fan art, recommendations, anything of the sort is much welcomed!**

 **Also, feel free to review anything else I have one! I will also be very grateful!**

 **Thank you so much! See you soon!**


	25. Dumb Dreams

Boots pounded into a stagnant puddle; the murky water slashed up into the air and clung onto the beige ankle of the runner. Around the puddle, a gaggle of obsidian dress shoes hurried around the perimeter of the puddle. The reflection revealed the obscure outlines of black robes flying in the din of the quiet explosions and dust-coated breeze whistling by the pack.

The students ran down the street like fleeing gazelle in the serengeti. Annie and Alistair, knowing where they were going, led the way down the old Bavarian town as explosions thumped throughout the destroyed town.

Warren followed right behind, the taller man having an easier time at keeping up. The rest of the group huffed like geriatric marathon runners through the dust-coated thouroughfares.

Edmund breathed like a workhouse as he trailed behind them. Exercise was not something he grabbed much of at Hogwarts, so he struggled with every step. Even in a dream, he had no endurance.

this caused him to feel drips of sweat coming down his forehead. He rubbed his spot-covered face with the sleeve of his robes. Dragging his cheek on the fabric, he turned his head and noticed something in the alley he happened to be crossing.

He stopped, his shoes skidding into the cobblestone as he stared into the alley.

"Everybody," Edmund shouted. Wait a second."

Annie, being as vigilant as ever, froze in place like a statue. However, Alistair, as reckless as ever, did not process the words fast enough. He crashed into Annie and they plummeted to the ground. Everyone else followed behind them and tripped over the scrum.

For the second time that day, Alistair found himself underneath everyone else. He groaned with the pressure of the other bodies pressing him down into the rough dirt that stained his outfit.

"I think I broke my back," he said to himself as he craned his neck behind the pile.

He scrunched his head back and saw Edmund peering into the alley.

Edmund took a few ginger steps into the alleyway. In the narrow alley, his shoulders brushed past the thick grime that had built up onto the tan bricks that jutted out like shining stalagmites in a cavern. It was barren with only the scurrying of squeaking mice shooting out of small cracks in the foundation of the walls beside him. His steps echoed in the small chamber. Thin rays of sunlight suck through the spots between the orange haze of smoke and the sloped rooftops obscuring the sun. He felt his heart race, but the quiet curiosity kept him going forward.

He brushed back a few cobwebs as he kneeled down. The figure looked up at him.

"Can you help me mister?"

Before him was a boy. Blonde hair, his cheeks were full and tinged with a slight blush as he looked up at Edmund with honey-soaked eyes. His thin frame made him look like a breeze would blow him away at any time. His thin forehead creased with worry as he sat with his legs protective in front of his body. His arms hugged them together to coccon himself. With a simple white t-shirt and jeans, the boy could not have been older then seven or eight.

In fact, he looked quite like a young Aisen.

"Are you Aisen?" Edmund said while lowering himself to a squatting position in front of the kid.

Edmund craned his head back. The group had arrived in the alley. they squeezed in, barely being able to see over each other's shoulders as they noticed the boy crouched down by Edmund.

"We're busy," Annie said as she pushed her way to the front of the pack. "Let's go."

"Hold up," Edmund said towards Warren more than anybody. "I think we're supposed to help."

"He's not even the real Aisen," Lacie said. "He's just an NPC from a dream.

"A what?" Edmund asked.

"Non-playable character. Someone that doesn't matter," Laila pointed out next to her. "I've been reading into gaming culture."

"But he needs help, guys," Alistair said. He massaged his cheeks as the bulky military equipment on his sides skittered over the scratched walls of the alleyway.

"I agree."

The entire pack looked back at Warren. With a straight face, he sighed and "It could be a test," Warren said. "To see if we're worthy of whatever the hell we are looking for here. And him looking like Aisen is no coincidence."

"It is his dream after all," Callie added. "Let's do what he wants?"

Edmund nodded and looked back down towards the boy.

"Hey...excuse me," Edmund gulped. "Do you need help?"

He tapped the boy on the back. He looked up again. His face was covered in dirt, but his eyes were blank akin to that of a robot. Edmund jittered back while the boy gave a blank stare back at Edmund.

"I need you to find who killed my father."

As he said this, the entire Earth shook. They all trembled as a deafening roar tilted the world on it's side axis. The sky disintegrated into white with he buildings on the side of the alleyway splitting apart into an ivory ether.

With a final crack, the ground opened up underneath them. Edmund could only see the faded existence of the boy flutter into the void as the light erupted into crimson flames. The feeling of Edmund's guts colliding with his insides meshed with the loss of balance, and his body became consumed by the helplessness of falling yet again.

* * *

Edmund was not having any fun.

He yelled out for what seemed to be the hundredth time as gravity yanked him downward, the heels of the giant robot he was piloting digging into the asphalt of the streets below and causing chunks of rock to scar the ground level. The EVA robot tilted on it's heels before Edmund felt the air rush out of his stomach.

"Help," he shouted with a helpless whimper. The entire frame of the EVA tumbled backwards with the finality of the raining cement from the crumbling buildings beside him.

The robot fell over like a toothpick into a pile of dilapidated building. They collapsed like pillars of sand underneath the massive magenta robot. With a crash, the Earth vibrated as waves of dust and debris sprinkled over the city. The machine's limbs clanged onto the ground with finality. The robot lay in the streets and covered what little remained of Tokyo-3.

In the cockpit, Edmund groaned and massaged the back of his head. The skin-tight plug suit was cutting off his blood circulation, and he could have sworn a blood vessel popped in his brain.

"Can I please die now?"

On the other end of the radio chatter, Lacie grimaced to herself. Her neck tilted up in an uncomfortable crane, she saw the destruction of EVA-1 fallen onto the city like a decaying corpse of metal and circuitry that zapped with occasional pops in the atmosphere.

"I'm kinda with him," Lacie said while wringing her wrists. "He looks pretty messed up."

"He has to get back up," Warren scowled up at the television. "My ring depends on it."

"It's not all about you, you know," Lacie whined. "Besides, I have a test in History of Magic tomorrow, and I need a good nights sleep."

"I have an idea," Callie said. She saddled over to the command module at the top of the giant auditorium, where faceless NERV agents were watching in abject horror at the disaster. A purple-haired commander had her arms crossed, a serious face on her as she examined the image.

"Uh...," Callie led. "Commander lady?"

"What?" Misato shot back.

Callie blushed and took a minuscule step backwards. "I was just wondering if you were going to finish that beer?"

Misato sneered and looked down at the empty bottle of alcohol in her hand. She sighed and shrugged before she flashed the crystal bottle at Callie. "Knock yourself out, kid. We're probably all done for anyway."

Callie nodded and snapped the bottle from her hand.

And then smashed her head with it.

Misato collapsed to the ground as lifeless as the robot on the screen. The rest of the group was in pure shock. Even Warren was blown away as his mouth flung ajar. However, he managed to put back on an apathetic face despite his grey eyes still open as wide as the giant auditorium doors behind them.

"Why'd you do that?" Alistair said.

"That's not in the manga! You fucking idiot." Laila chastised.

Callie ignored them and grabbed the microphone on the control console. "Edmund, can you hear me?"

A scream.

"Good," Callie said. "You need to think about your parents."

"What?" The chatter erupted out of the speakers around them. The angel with its massive spindles and ink arrows was crawling down the long street of downtown Tokyo-3 towards the EVA.

"Think about your parents. It gives you extra energy in this manga."

Edmund sat back in the cockpit. The rumbling of the hydraulic mechanics in the cockpit hummed. He felt the tremors of the earth vibrating as the spider-like Angel inched closer down the street. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate.

His parents. His mother was a stern woman, and she imagined she would smack him upside the head if she found him in this situation. She was strong-willed, but somewhat reckless. She was a journalist for the Wizarding World News, and she would always leer over her notes regardless of the setting. She would always find the strange cracks and odd ends to any situation, toothing over her surroundings with a sharp comb. Often, when put in a difficult situation, he wondered what his mother would do and then do that.

So when Edmund willed the massive EVA to stand up, he knew what he had to do.

"Callie," Edmund shouted. "Drop the atom bomb on the city."

"What?" Everyone in the command center shouted.

"I'll disengage the armor on the angel with my AT Field and the we can kill it with an atom bomb."

In the command center, Callie gripped the microphone and leaned up to the nose. "Do you know how to do that?"

"No, but we're doing it anyway!"

Callie turned back over to the rest of the group. "I don't feel that comfortable doing that."

Warren sighed as his broad shoulders dipped downward. "Its worth a shot."

"Besides, it's probably close to morning," Laila said. "If we die, we at least get to go to class to turn in the homework I spent all day on."

Callie nodded. "Great. Now," she said. She looked down at the podium with the microphone.

"What's wrong? Do it!" Edmund garbled over the radio.

"What button do I push to drop the bomb?"

"Try all of them!"

Callie saw the rainbow of buttons glowing underneath her. All of them were enticing, but she noticed a giant red one that had a warning sign flashing on the crimson face.

"I think this one!"

"Push it!"

And Callie did.

* * *

"Great. Now, we're in Fairy Tale."

Sure enough, the button did not drop a nuclear weapon. Instead, the were transported to a colorful town with bright, vibrant buildings. The clear sky above had an airy feel to it, as if the whimsy of the world was permeating off the bricks of the town's houses. The medieval, cobblestone road was smooth with horse drawn carriages bumbling past like the soft breeze tickling Laila's hair. She looked down and saw herself in very tight orange blouse and skinny jeans. On her hand was the tattoo of the Fairy Tail guild.

"What happens here?" Warren said.

"Didn't you read anything?" Laila grunted. "This is a chapter where some evil flute tries to kill everyone and this bad guy tries to get it from Fairy Tail."

"Isn't that every manga or anime ever?" Edmund said.

As they spoke, a deafening crackle erupted from a few blocks away. Laila gritted her teeth as she turned behind her. A plume of smoke roiled and cut through the cerulean sky. It grew tall like the snow-capped mountains in the distance of the town jutting over the small buildings in the city.

"Alright, Laila," Alistair said. "Time to be a hero."

Laila squinted and flashed a funny look at Alistair. "Hell, no. I'm running away."

With that, the girl donning renaissance era clothing bolted behind her and ran away.

"Wait," Edmund shouted. "Where are you going?"

"Yeah, I still haven't figured out to beat those guys," Laila said from over her shoulder. "So run."

Warren looked over at Callie. The girl, with a timid shrug, decided to follow suit. They ran together towards Laila to avoid certain death.

"Wait," Alistair said. "Guys, come back! We have to do this!"

Alistair stared out at the street. The entire group bolted away from the train station where the main battle was occurring. He saw the cloaks of the other students fly in the breeze as the disappeared around the corners of the buildings and into narrow alleyways for shelter. Alistair was alone as he looke down at his shoes. He was still in the uniform from Attack On Titan.

"Not the first time people have run away from me," he said to himself.

He began to jog down the street. He had no idea what to do. He knew Laila had to be the one to defeat whatever was plaguing this world, but she decided to just evaporate into the background. What were they supposed to do? Wait until they just woke up? And what about this situation with Aisen? Finding his dad's killer? Since when were his parents killed?

He kept jogging, his mind racing along with his steps. Here he was, running again down a street. He saw a corner, and beyond it was a river cutting through the city. He turned to head down the waterfront, his breath tickling from the crisp autumn air. He admitted to himself, at least this world was clearer and less painful.

"Oof!"

Alistair crashed right into somebody at the turning of the corner. He bounced off the figure and slammed on his left side onto his arm. His head smacked the pavement of the sidewalk, and he groaned while massaging his head.

"I'm so sorry," a light voice said. "I didn't see!"

"No, it's my fault," Alistair said. He opened his eyes and noticed a chain of keys on the ground by his hand. "Here, I got that."

Alistair picked up the keys and lifted himself up to his feet. he dusted off his pants and looked up at the girl. He had to admit, his chest felt a small pang at the sight of the female. Before him was a very attractive girl with the blondest hair he saw this side of his own. Her heart shaped face wore a thin blush over her rose cheeks. Her wide, honeysuckle eyes were typical of most anime, but they had a sweet appeal to them that made this girl seem both powerful and innocent at the same time.

"Thank you," she said as she took the keys from his hand.

They exchanged small smiles at each other.

"Are you lost, by the way?" Alistair asked.

"Oh me? No, I'm just looking for some people. Have you seen them? One of them has pink hair? The other shoots ice from his hands."

"Sorry, it escapes me," Alistair said. He flashed a playful smirk at the girl. "I do have a feeling I'm supposed to meet them, though. Think I can come along with you since I'm lost."

"You don't strike me as a guy that gets lost often." She said as she bounced up on her tip toes.

"Usually, unless I have a very good distraction." Alistair said. Before he knew it, like he was possessed, he winked at her as a reflex.

"Am I a distraction?" She said with a tiny flinch.

"If you want to be."

The girl giggled. "I'm Lucy, by the way." Lucy twirled a strand of her hair in her thin finger. If Alistair knew better, he swore she batter her eyelashes at him.

"Alistair." He said in a deep voice. Lucy smiled at him, and the could not help but gaze into each others eyes. For a second, they both completely forgot what they were doing in that location.

"Are you serious?"

Alistair nearly jumped up higher than the rooftops as he heard the voice yelling at him. He whipped around and saw a certain short girl with ice eyes marching towards him in anger.

"Annie!" Alistair said, holding out her name at the end. "Really happy to see you. How'd you end up he-."

Annie then stabbed him in the neck.

Alistair croaked out with blood spurting from his jugular vein. He clutched the hilt of the knife, it's sharp blade hinged into his neck. It would not dislodge as his strnegth gave way in his legs. His limbs became jelly. He crashed onto the ground, and his body twitched one more time before he died.

Annie crossed her arms. She kicked the head of the corpse.

"Are you seriously hitting on anime characters now? Don't you have better things to do like save the damn world. Now we have to start over again tomorrow night."

Lucy, her brown eyes so wide they were about to pop out, had her mouth covered in shock.

Annie eyed Lucy and shrugged. "Believe me. If you knew him like I do, he deserved worse."

* * *

"Listen, I have an essay." Laila said as she picked at her fingernails.

"I do, too. But we need to get Aisen awake!" Edmund said.

"Who is going to save my grades?" Laila asked.

Edmund and Laila thumbed through their Defense Against The Dark Arts textbooks for the hundredth time. Next to each other in classroom, Edmund thumped his fingers with nervous energy on the oak long table that they studied on. They were only a few hours removed from being in Aisen's dreamworld, and you could certainly tell. Edmund, normally prim and proper, had his straight hair sticking up in the back of his head. Crust still in the corners of his eyes, his face appeared paler than usual and his eyelids bore down like sandbags on the photography light stand in the corner of the room. His fingers had been pointed at the same place in his textbook for a while, so either the word he was reading was ten minutes long, or he was not paying attention.

"Why are you being selfish all of a sudden?"

"Not all of a sudden," Laila said. Her button up white shirt was tucked into her black trousers, but the grey sweater over it hung loose like a shawl around her shoulders, "Look, I've thought this over. With Aisen. He obviously wants to be in there. And maybe we're supposed to let him. You know, so we can see this monster thing."

"What?"

"Maybe it has to reveal itself to us? I don't know. All I know is that I'm getting tired of being stuck in a dream with a talking cat and some perverts that wear less clothes than on the day you were born."

'What?" Alistair, who had been sitting at the table in front of the pair the whole time, woke up from his stupor at the mention of the other dream world. The thin fringe of his hair was also mussed up, and the bags under his face were grey and fresh from fatigue.

"Should we save Aisen?" Edmund asked Alistair. "It makes sense. And to also find out who killed his father."

"What's this about killing his father?"

"No, his father was killed a long time ago," Laila groaned.

"I didn't know that," Alistair said. "Has he been keeping that hidden?"

"You didn't know him until the beginning of the year," Edmund said. "And if you did, you'd know his parents aren't around. But as to whether his father was murdered, we don't know that."

"Excuse you."

Edmund yelped and hopped up in his chair like it had been lit on fire. Professor Donald, with his trademark business suit clinging around his sturdy girth, peered through his drooping eyes at the trio of students standing in the corner. His head puffed upwards like he was sniffing the air, he pouted with a long face. His gaze bore down on them, and his small fists clenched in front of his hips.

Edmund immediately clenched his necktie and squeezed it in stress. Alistair tried to avoid the beady stare, hoping not to get in further trouble.

"You're excused." Laila said as she verbally stuck her tongue out at Donald.

"Okay, frankly," he said while making a gesture with his thumb and pointer finger. "I don't know what's happening here, but I've been told I'm the best at deducing things, and I think some strange things you all are apart of."

"That sentence makes no sense," Laila said.

"Because my words are on a different level than yours," Professor Donald said as he brandished his wand. "I only use the best words. And I am also on a calibur much higher than most wizards. Do you know Albus Dumbledore?"

"Do we know Albus Dumbledore?" Laila asked in a deadpan stupor.

"He was a great magician, and he told me fantastic things about myself," Donald said. "Frankly, he believed that I was the best of the best. That's not even what I said to myself. That's what he told me. I'm a great wizard, and I know how to teach people."

"Then teach us something, Professor" Laila said, barely masking her honey eyes from rolling in the back of her skull. "We've been sitting here reading theory for the past week."

At this point, Professor Donald pointed a stubby finger over at Alistair. "You."

Alistair jerked his head up. His eyes grew large like he just saw a hippogriff charging at him by Hagrid's hut. His metal arm knocked over a bottle of ink onto the carpet underneath the table. The black oozed out and absorbed into the grey carpet leaving a dark stain. He stammered, losing his cool for a second. Eyes locked onto the group huddled in the corner like a gunfight was about to erupt in the OK Coral.

"me?"

"Yes, you. Iron Man, think you can do a patronus for me?"

Before he could ask about what an Iron Man was, Alistair pursued his dry lips together. "A patronus?" Alistair asked with a meek smile.

"Do you know what a patronus is?"

"I...I do," Alistair said while his shoulders slumped down. His eyes flickered around the room. He bit his lip, his face imitating that of a deer caught in front of a semi truck on the motorway.

Laila cocked her head. For once, the assured Slytherin seemed completely out of his element. Yes, the past month or so had been difficult on them, but she thought that he had regained some of his former bravado. Not that she cared about him regaining his bravado. Not one bit.

A snicker in the back. "Like Leonhardt can even spell his name, let alone do a Patronus."

Alistair frowned. Of course, one of Robbie's goons named Tristan would try to interject and get his cheap shots in. He snapped his head back and glared at the Gryffindors gathered around the table. Sure enough, the Gryffindors were guffawing around each other in the other end of the classroom. In the center was their ringleader, Robbie.

"Shut up," Alistair growled at them. "It...it just takes to make the right one."

"We figured," Tristan said. "Slytherins don't have happy memories anyway. Right, Robbie?"

Between the gaggle of Gryffindors, Robbie shook his head like he was swatting away a fly. He blinked and put on a brave face, his typical cocky smirk. "Yeah. Right."

Alistair felt the eyes combing over him worse than when he first came into class with his fake appendage. He, and most students, knew he was no the most adept at magic. Regardless, he had kept up with his studies enough to get through classes. However, a patronus was just not something that he had been able to conjure yet. If he performed it know, it would be a simple wisps of graphite smoke.

"I don't know a patronus either."

Alistair drew in a breathe and picked his head up. Laila twirled a strand of her hair and stared at Professor Donald. Her deep mocha eyes blinked as she smirked up at the Professor.

"I haven't been able to conjure one up."

Murmurs broke out in the classroom. Alistair blinked and cocked his head at Laila.

"What are y-."

"Me neither."

Another turn of his head. This time, Alistair saw Edmund who raised a shaky hand.

"I-I haven't done that well with it. I'm still just getting wisps."

"For that matter, I can't do it either," From the opposite side of the room, Ellora stood up and flipped her black bob in her hand.

Beatrice, seated behind Alistair, cleared her throat and stood up. "I don't even know the spell."

Alistair panned around at the room. A surprising mix of people, some he'd consider friends and some not so much, literally standing up to stop him from being embarrassed. Silence flooded the room. Only the crackle of the fireplace behind the professor's desk popped off noise. Why were they doing this? And why was he even concerned about not doing a patronus. Friends. That was a word he did not use often. He was a very public person, but he could count on his hand the people that he could talk to about anything meaningful. That's what he considered a friend. Plenty of nice acquaintances and people he messed around with, but not many friends.

"Then we'll start from scratch," Professor Donald said. He turned back towards his desk and flung out his wand. He pointed it up at the ceiling. "Frankly, you should all know this. But...perhaps it's best you learn this important spell from me. To make sure you get it right."

As the others sat down, Alistair asked himself these questions further. Why was he so touched by this?

Better yet, why was Alistair smiling?

* * *

 **Thank you all for your patience. I will try to update sooner.**

 **But please review your feelings and any ideas you have! I am thankful for all of you, but please review! It will definately help make these updates faster and more fun!**

 **Thank you. See you soon!**


	26. Burning Through Dreams

Warren was still not used to the length of this pool.

He remembered this when his head smashed into the stone walls underneath the surface of the cool water.

With a grunt, he broke the surface, ropes of crystalline water flung around as he sucked in precious oxygen. His chest heaved up and down, drops of water trailing down his face and shoulders. His raven hair clung to his forehead, matted down with the weight of the chlorine-infused liquid that surrounded him. The murky sun reflected a pallid light off the ripples that waved and sloshed like a metronome rocking side-to-side.

Warren rubbed the top of his head, his hair rough and thick from the water. He could already feel a bruise forming from the collision.

A twitch of his face jumped across his eyes as he heard footsteps patter over the wet stone around the pool. Just what he needed, more people thrusting their noses into his business.

"Excuse me."

The water sloshed around Warren as he spun around and created a small twister in the pool around him. Standing just feet from him on the ledge of the pool was that girl from earlier. The one that tried to take his manga. She was wearing effectively the same costume from before, A a dark Alucard-type mask still donning her face. From this distance, he noticed her chestnut brown eyes, bright and vibrant like swirled honey in a mocha capacchino. Based off her dark tanned complexion and slim face, he could tell she was at least of Indian descent.

"Oh, it's you."

"The girl that took that manga from you," she said in an over-saccharine voice.

"Are you here to steal something else?" Warren said in an annoyed and wispy voice. "I only have two galleons in my wallet. Or are you playing a prank on me and trying to steal my clothes? Because someone tried that my fourth year."

The girl smirked. "As appealing as I bet you would look walking around the castle in only swim jammers, I'm here to help you. I know a thing or two about swimming, and I wanted to assist."

"Why?"

"I felt a little bad about what I did to you earlier. Also, I know you're not just doing this for exercise." The girl said. She kneeled down at the edge of the water and looked deep into Warren's blank, graphite eyes. "And also, I have some interesting information that you may desire."

Warren raised an eyebrow, his blank expression pointed at the girl.

The thief, seeing he was curious, reached down towards Warren. With a lithe finger, she brushed away a stray lock of his hair from his forehead. Warren could not help but flinch at the soft touch.

"There's a story where I'm from. It's about this man. He was just a normal guy. He killed somebody. Put a gun to his head. So, he goes home to his mother and tells her that if he's not back the same time tomorrow to carry on. And he never returned, because nothing really mattered to him. So all of that to say that all of the fun things happening around this school doesn't mean that much to me. What does is that I get what I need from certain people."

Warren blinked and took a step closer. He rested a muscled arm on the ledge and leaned up towards the girl. She smirked at his curiosity.

"You know how to get into the Chamber of Secrets. Don't you?"

Warren remained expressionless. However, internally, his guts tightened up in a ball. There was no way she could have known about that. Sure, she was probably used to sneaking around and tailing her targets, but he thought he had a sense to know when people where following him. Even in the hallways, he felt the eyes of students comb his back like a snake absorbing the vibrations of the ground surrounding it, knowing a possible predator was stomping about.

Of course, there was the possibility that somebody who already knew had said something. His mind flashed the image of a certain cocky guy that considered himself the King of Gryffindor.

"There's a very unique artifact in there that I need to get," she said. "Do you think you can help me?"

Warren shook of the surprise. This girl did not seem to be irrational, and there was no reason to believe that she would talk about this. Especially since he had no idea who seh was, she would out herself as the thief if he found out where any rumors originate from. "And what's in it for me?"

She smirked. "How would you like to find your ring?"

* * *

Lacie brushed off the smudge of dirt encrusted on her tight baby blue blouse. She hated how all of this anime always put female in these tight, unsuitable for combat clothing. Sure, she thought she looked good in it, but she could not help but feel like she was in more danger than ever.

She was, in fact, more confused than ever while witnessing the little girl annihilate a giant beast with a fire-blast from her hands. The creature exploded into a rainfall of sparks that sparkled like bubbles down onto the group of people on the surface.

And now, some random room opened up at the end of the corridor! It was an empty room with white walls that nearly blinded her with the reflection of the spotlights above them. A flat marble slab lay in the center, where the strange little girl sat.

Kirito and Asuna where both beginning to cry next to her. Apparently, they had just all found out Yui was some computer program and not an actual human being. They both embraced the little girl on the marble slab. Lacie stood in front of them, a strange feeling of pity and apathy brewing in her stomach.

When they noticed, Kirito tilted his head like a confused dog and lowered his gaze to her. "Lacie, did you want to hug Yui?"

Lacie let out an annoyed noise. "No! I'm not her mama! Why does she keep calling us her parents?"

Huddled in the corner of the blank room, the rest of the Hogwarts students watch on with mild discomfort. Warren looked down at his feet to avoid the tense scene. He knew he was not decent at these emotional moments, and he would rather not get involved. Everyone else just sulked and did their best to get out of the way.

Asuna stood up like an agitated rhinoceros and took out her sword. The metal tip glistened towards her. "How dare you? You are ruining a perfectly emotional moment just because your confused about why you are here."

Lacie grunted. "No, it's because you've been threatening and killing me over and over again because you're jealous!"

At this, Kirito broke out from his tender embrace of Yui and ran in between the two girls. He stuck his palms out to assuage the situation. "Girls, please. This is not the tim-."

"When is it, Kirito?" Asuna asked as she spat mirth at Lacie. "This bitch has been following us around like a leech for too long!"

In the corner, a pack of five other students stood around and observed the scene. They were all perplexed by the scenario, but there was not much they could do. Not because they didn't want to, but because it seemed like Lacie had everything handled.

"I don't want to follow you around," Lacie shouted. "I have to get something from here!"

"Lacie, we're all very hurt by Yui right now," Kirito said. "How about we calm do-."

Lacie smacked away the sword and grabbed Kirito by the collar. She pushed him past Asuna and onto the marble slab. He fell back as Lacie gripped his cloak. "You're the moron that's causing all of this, you Mary Sue OP bastard!"

"What did you call me?"

"God, you're worse than any other Mary Sue," Lacie shouted. "You have the personality of plywood and the appearance of some emo kid in a goth band, and yet you're amazing at everything you do. So die!"

Lacie grabbed Asuna's rapier and stabbed Kirito in the heart.

Like a ghost, he instantly evaporated into thin air. As Lacie looked around the room, a giant white explosion erupted. Shielding her eyes, she blinked and turned back towards the source. It was a giant white orb, and it emanated some cheerful music.

"Congratulations," some announcer said. "You achieved your goal for this dream! Time to move onto the next one!"

"But I didn't even do anything!" Lacie shouted.

And just like that, Lacie and the other Hogwarts students disappeared.

In the midst of their disappearance, Yui and Asuna could only stare at each other at the aftermath of the event.

"So, can you bring him back," Asuna asked to Yui.

"D-Do you really want him back?"

Asuna shrugged.

* * *

Callie felt strange adjusting her tie on her school uniform. Not the Hogwarts school uniform of course, but a different one. She was nervous but not just from her usual social anxiety. This was a big moment as she was tasked by the members of the host club to woo a very high-profile client for the school. Apparently, she was the daughter of some big businessman.

"Are you ready, Callie-chan?" Honey chirped to her.

The girl looked down at the innocent boy and gave off a gentle smile. "Yes, Honey. I'll be ready in just a few minutes."

Honey smiled and clamored away towards the rest of the Host Club. Callie was left in his midst, a deep flush on her pale face. She bit her lip and wrung her thin wrists in each hand. The fabric of the baby blue blazer on her skin scratched away on her arms in an uncomfortable grip that clung at her form.

"I'm not ready," Callie said more to herself than anyone else. She gulped down her parched throat before beginning to shake. "What if I fail? Does that mean Aisen will die? Does that mean I'll die?"

Her forest green eyes widened and she began to hug herself. "Whose going to take care of my goldfish at home? What about the rest of humanity? Is the entire wizarding world going to die?" She hyperventilated.

Behind her, a very ostentatious group of students looked on in worry at the girl.

"She seems stressed," Lacie said.

Alistair shook his head. The girl panicking was not going to get them out of this hell hole any easier. Besides, the bright pink walls and marble tile dripping with their reflections underneath them was giving him a headache already.

He brushed past the rest of the students and approached Callie. With a small sigh, he placed his real hand on her shoulder.

"Callie?"

Callie yelped as if she had been zapped by a jellyfish. Spinning around, she clutched at her chest. The blush on her face mimicked a light sunburn. She took a light step back and attempted to catch her breath.

"Callie, you need to focus," Alistair said. "If you can't get us through this, we won't save everyone."

"But that's what I'm worried about," Callie stammered. "I don't know how to charm women or by calm or anything like that!"

Alistair could not help the small smirk on his face. "Then you have come to the right place."

The Slytherin reached over to Callie and grabbed her by the waist. Turning her around, he pointed over at the girl on the sofa.

"That's the one you are supposed to charm, right?"

"Right."

Alistair spun Callie back around to face him again. "All you have to do is stay focused with them. But not just on them, but on everything they say and do. When a female does something, it's the most important thing ever done. You focus on it and you compliment them. But not too much. If you do, you start to make them uncomfortable."

Callie shook her head to jumble the cells in her brain. She was even more confused now. "How does complimenting them make them uncomfortable?"

Alistair tilted his head in an inquisitive pose. Then, a lightbulb flickered on in his head. He put on a deep, teeth-shining grin. He reached over to Callie and, with his other hand, placed it on the girl's neck. With a delicate touch from his gentle, feather soft fingers, he stroked her warm skin and leaned closer to her. Different shades of green stared deep into the other.

"Callie," Alistair said with a low tone. "You are the most beautiful girl in the world."

Callie could not help but nearly spit take at the response. She shivered at those words and ripped herself from Alistair's touch. With a blush emanating on her pale face, she looked down at her feet. Her ink-black shoes showed her own flushed reflection. She tucked back a strand of her blonde hair and shot short breathes into her lungs. Having a sixth year like Alistair say something like that to her made her more embarrassed and flustered than she thought she would be.

"Alistair," Callie said softly. "That...don't say that to me."

Alistair, like he was switching off a lightbulb, dropped his arms with finality and wiped off the flirtatious smile. "But you are a beautiful girl, Callie. How nice you are. How thoughtful you are. But...do you see what I mean? That made you feel uncomfortable. So, you need to be more subtle."

"More what?"

"Less showy," Alistair said. "You told me last time that you asked them if they like jazz. That's fine and all, but you should suggest to do something with them instead. That causes them to make a decision on whether to do something with you. And then you know if they really like you."

He clapped Callie on the back. "Now, go get them, tiger!"

Callie had to admit that she felt much better after the talk. She pulled back her shoulders and raised her head up high. She straightened the velvet tie around her jacket and put on a wide, somewhat forced smile. She strode over the marble floor; her shoes clacking as she bounded over to the sofa on the other side of the couch.

Alistair smiled, his hands on his hips as he watched Callie head off to the group of girls.

"What did you say to her?" Edmund asked as he popped up right next to him.

"The normal anime 'be true to yourself' shit." Alistair said.

Meanwhile, over at the lavender couch, Callie stopped right in front of the girls. With a grin, she ran a hand through her hair.

"Hey," she said in a low voice. "You all want to listen to some jazz?"

* * *

 **Hello everybody!**

 **Happy new year! Shorter chapter just to get back into the swing of things.**

 **I appreciate you all sticking around. Remember, the more reviews, the more motivated I will be. I will keep going as long as people are reading! So thank you so much. And tell me what you think of this chapter.**

 **Thank you. See you soon!**


	27. Mud And Huts

Soft vibrations of the record player flicked vinyl pops across the sun-soaked room.

It was a song Aisen had heard many times before. Some old song from Italy.

Volare.

Oh.

Cantare.

Oh.

The sounds only served to tranquilize Aisen's muscles further. He moved none save for the occasional blink.

In fact, Aisen had not left the same spot on the couch for a while now. He was not sure how long it had been, and he was not sure how much longer he had left on the hard leather of the beige couch.

His breathing was shallow. The dust that coated the coffee table beside him danced like floating daffodills in the tickling breeze wafting through the room. His brown eyes lidded, his mouth was slightly agape with his lips parched from any liquid relief.

 _Is this what you do? You suck out the energy in people and take over?_

Isn't this good? Don't you want to rest?

 _I do. But...I have a sister. Friends._

That's right. They can join us when we get the ring.

Aisen elevated his gaze up to the open window. The cows roamed about like lazy fireflies dotting the emerald fields of grass. Over the clear blue sky, they hummed and grazed to their hearts content.

 _I want to. I want them to join. But I kinda like the real world, too._

Even with all that's happened to you?

 _Not all of it. But the good parts._

What if I brought only the good parts here? Would you be convinced then?

Aisen let out a soft gasp.

 _I don't think I'd mind that at all._

Aisen could practically hear the soft voice grin.

Anything for you.

Son.

* * *

"Can I ask you something, Hagrid?

Hagrid was a man that took his teaching job quite seriously. Many would not suspect the jocular, rotund hobo of a man with thick brown leather donning every inch of his body would be so strict. However, students learned that he demanded nothing but the best of his Care For Magical Creatures students. All homework had to be on time or dropped a whole letter grade for every _hour_ missed. Any interruptions in the class resulted in an immediate dismissal for the day. Even the mispronunciation of a creature's name would result in what could only be described as a bloodthirsty look from the creature, which Hagrid was not obliged to stop.

Hagrid smacked his head on the bottom of the sink in his hut. The drain had some sort of clog in it, but he groaned out in pain and rubbed the sore spot as he turned around.

"Blimey, Laila. Haven't you learned to knock?" He asked in his thick accent.

Laila rolled her navy blue eyes and strode into the opening of the hut. She walked over to the sink and gave it a good kick on the drainage pipe. A loud slurping sound flushed itself though the pipe and out of the hut.

Hagrid grabbed the faucet and spun open the squeaking gear. The water flowed through and disappeared through the drainage.

Laila crossed her arms over her Hufflepuff cloak. "You still haven't learned?"

"This new sink keeps messing with me and me beard," Hagrid said in anger.

The dark blonde girl rolled her eyes with a small smirk. She headed towards the short rusted icebox by the small hearth across the hut. Her hanging out in Hagrid's hut had become a common occurrence over the years. Perhaps it was his appearance or his personality, but Laila found easy solace in daily stress by being in this hut at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"Class starts soon, Laila," Hagrid said. "I have to get the lesson for today ready."

Laila flung open the fridge and took out a cool bottle of pumpkin juice. She flicked off the top and began to chug down the honey-flavored golden liquid.

"Go easy woman," Hagrid said in a worried tone. "That's my last bottle."

The Hufflepuff smacked her full lips and gulped down the rest of the drink. With an exaggerated sigh of content, she fell onto the millenium old wooden chair by the slop-shod and molding table in the center of the circular room. The girl kicked up her legs and rested them on the table. Hagrid would have told her off, but this sort of behavior from his best student was normal.

"Heard anything about this ring, Hagrid?" Laila asked while raising an eyebrow.

Hagrid shook his head like he was swatting away an annoying fly. "What was that?"

"You're smarter than this, Hagrid," Laila said as she pointed a finger at him. "This whole treasure hunt thing. I'm sure McGonnagall has told you all about it."

Hagrid blinked. "Laila, I thought you didn't want to talk about it. Last week when I asked..."

Laila crossed her legs and took another swig of the pumpkin juice. "I don't. But I also don't want to be soulfully bonded to six other students in some magical murderous mosh pit," Laila said. Then, she hummed to herself. "Magical Murderous Mosh Pit. That would be a good emo band name." She took another sip.

Hagrid wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. "I'd like to help. Honestly! But I'd no clue as to where it she said to us was what it was and that it's being guarded."

"By who?" Laila asked.

"Dunno," Hagrid said. "Although the Headmistress said that it was in a very special place."

"Does the 'Headmistress,'" Laila said in a mocking regal tone. "That a student of her's is literally sleeping himself to death. Not that I know much about him, but I'm tired of being dragged into all of this. Me with some player Slytherin that couldn't use his wand to lift a feather, let alone kill evil spirits. And some girl that can barely utter two words in public without running away in fear. Ditto on Edmund. That guy can't string a sentence without having a nervous breakdown. And by the way, my dad isn't exactly thrilled about what I have to do now, either."

They both fell into a small spell of quiet. Laila took a deep breath and marinated in her words. Hagrid nodded in soft agreement at her frustration. He took a few giant steps forward, the frame of the excuse for a wooden door at the entrance shaking from his heavy frame. He froze by her side and placed a giant, warm hand over her chilled thin one. He gave it a soft squeeze.

"You've been through too much in sixteen years, Laila," Hagrid said. "But you still don't have some people beat. I knew students your age that went though much more and worse."

Laila shook her head. "But that's different. Harry Potter and those guys. They had, like, a destiny. Fate or something that made them have to do that. This? This is brand new and it's something that doesn't have to happen."

"You'll get through it. Remember back when you hated my class? And you almost failed?"

"Seriously?" Laila asked with a shake of her head. She snapped her hand back. "Now's not the best time to remind me of that."

Hagrid could not help the chortle that erupted in his throat. "To be fair, it was a hard class that year. Switching Dementors over from Dark Arts to my class and teaching about them! Bloody disaster that was."

"I know," Laila said as she twirled a strand of her hair. "Those things can't be trusted."

"You right about that," Hagrid said. "I don't even know why McGonagall allowed them back on the school grounds to begin with. Even if it is just the Shrieking Shack."

Laila nodded and tipped her head back to finish off her drink.

Then, she choked on the liquid. She dropped the bottle, causing it to thud and roll underneath the ramshackled table.

"What?"

Hagrid's eyes widened as if he had just stumbled upon a puddle of dead unicorn blood. He gulped. "I shouldn't have said that."

"They're here? At the Shack?"

Laila grabbed her black leather knapsack. Slinging the strap across her right shoulder, she screeched the wooden chair back and sprung to her feet. After shouting a quick thanks to Hagrid, she leapt over the chopped stone steps outside of the hut. With new purpose, she ran through the manicured flecks of moist grass that shone from the mildew dripping from the tips.

* * *

Callie was not one to normally drag her feet. However, after a lengthy hour of having to deal with Professor Flitwick's dense lectures on the uses of the Revulsion Jinx, she slunk onto the bench in the Great Hall. Not only was the class rough, but getting no restful sleep the previous night had made circle etch themselves underneath her eyes. Even her normally perfectly wavy blonde hair was marred with runaway strands sticking up like bolts of lightening.

Thunking her head on the table, she groaned to herself as a tray of pumpkin juice floated above her head.

"Hey, you?"

The poor girl flung her head up with a shock. The tray of juice clattered onto her skull, causing the cool juice to spill over her like a splattering of rain from an overfilled gutter. She shivered from the sudden contact and tried to wipe down her robes.

A few people snickered to themselves as the Hufflepuff looked up at the person that scared her. Warren wore a tight frown as he slid onto the bench next to her. The taller boy placed himself extremely close to her, their elbows almost touching.

Callie blushed and inched away. Warren tilted his head, his grey eyes peering at the nervous girl.

"Uh...you okay?"

Callie looked down at her soaked robes. "Oh, yeah. Just became a little chilly."

Without hesitation, Warren pointed his wand at her. With a flick, the wand emitted hot air that billowed from the tip. He ran it over her robes, causing the warmth t swaddle her until the dampness disappeared like the tray of cauldron cakes that just breezed past a group of gluttonous First Years.

Callie's dull green eyes lifted up to Warren's face. The scars still holding so many secrets, she frowned and slouched on her spot.

"Thanks."

Warren grunted and took a piece of bread from the silver platter seated in front of him. The steamed wafted in front of his face as he took the warm, sweet roll into his mouth and bit into it. Callie played with a strand of her hair as her eyes began to wander up and down Warren's pin-straight posture and form. The man was still such an enigma to her. Not just because of his scars or him being a werewolf or even the way he distanced himself from others.

No, it was mostly how he could tolerate her for no reason.

"Warren?"

Warren turned over to her in mid chew of the bread.

Callie blushed again. She couldn't help but be reminded of an overcurious dog. And those eyes. Those beautiful grey eyes that seemed to pierce into her mind. If he was accomplished in Occlumency, she would not be surprised.

"Do you have dreams?"

Warren raised an eyebrow. "Just of those swimming morons. And the ones that were connected to with that Gryffindor ki-."

"No, I mean dreams," Callie stated. "Like goals or something like that?"

Warren paused and gazed at the golden plate underneath him. The sounds of students chatting and clattering cutlery zigged and zagged over the succulent aroma of food in the Great Hall. Callie just waited for a response. In fact, she tapped her toe inside her black dress shoes awaiting an answer.

Warren cleared his throat. "Like things I want to do after Hogwarts?"

"You are in Sixth Year."

Warren looked back up at Callie. "It's stupid. You'd laugh."

Callie let out a nervous chuckle. "Warren, I've had to try and flirt with a bunch of fictional girls in some Japanese harem anime. I don't think much can be stupid to me anymore."

Warren shook his head. "I'm not telling you."

Callie drew a weak smile. "Well, I want to be an explorer when I get out. I know people think it's silly because I'm so...well, I'm not like what explorers are. Right? They're brash and confident and loud. Then, there's me. Just a girl that can barely keep up a conversation. But I've always wanted to do it. There are so many magical places in the world that haven't been discovered or properly mapped out yet."

"Where would you go first?"

Callie felt a tingle of victory twitch down her body from getting more than two words from Warren. "The Ark of the Covenant. They say its in Nigeria, but I want to find it and figure out of it's real. And maybe what's happened to us lately has actually helped me show that I could actually do something crazy like that one day."

Warren nodded.

"So...,"Callie tapped a finger on the oak table. "Fair is fair?"

Warren took a sip of pumpkin juice. After swallowing, he cleared his throat again.

"There you two are!"

Callie turned behind her and found a heavy-breathing Laila. She haunched over her knees, leaning on them for support as she caught her breath. The Sixth Year pumped air into her lungs, the burning in her airways dulling into the accelerated rhythm of her heartbeat. With a few more huffs, she rose up to full height and wiped her brow of sweat.

"We...really...need a gym in this castle," Laila heaved.

The two at the table just stared at her in confusion.

Laila, after seeing their skeptical looks, remembered what she was there for. "Oh, yeah. We all need to go somewhere."

* * *

Having seven students ditch class in the middle of the day would normally have been noticed by somebody. Fortunately for Lacie, she had a free period at the time. When Warren, from her House, gave her what sounded like orders to meet him and the others at the Whomping Willow, she had no idea what to think. If there was a specific location, then it had to have been something serious. Something worth skipping class over.

When she headed down the steps of the atrium entrance, she bounded in her designer Italian leather boots towards the muddy grounds of the school. Wincing to herself, she realized getting to the Whomping Willow required her boots getting dirty.

Once she got outside, the clouds overhead hung like a noose over the castle grounds. The heavens were about to burst into rain at any second, evident by the musty smell of humidity that tinged the otherwise crisp air.

So this is how Lacie stood on the edge of the courtyard concrete and the meadow that she needed to cross and risk her boots getting soggy. Truly an important moment in her growth as a human being.

"What are you doing?"

Lacie rolled her eyes and craned her head to her side. Behind her, Robbie stood with his arms crossed over his wide chest.

"I could ask you the same."

"You should be inside. You'll get sick, and then dad will be all over me for it."

Lacie whipped around on her heels and mirrored Robbie's pose. "So that's why you're worried? Because of dad?"

Robbie dropped his arms and pointed at her. "You know that's not it, Lacie. You're about to do something again, aren't you?"

"You really are dense, aren't you," Lacie shook her head in bemusement. "I've been 'doing something' every time I sleep for the past week or so."

"I just don't want you to get hurt."

"Then maybe you should come with me, Robbie," Lacie said. "The King Of Gryffindor has to do something brave for once, right?"

Robbie winced. "I know things you don't. And you're hanging out around bad people. All of them!"

"Dad is fine with it," Lacie said. "As long as we keep him updated. Besides, he has people watching over us."

"But the won't always be there, Lacie," Robbie said in a loud tone. "And I'm not letting you walk to whatever it is you're dealing with!"

"Do you even know what I'm dealing with?"

Robbie snorted and took a step forward. "Like I haven't noticed. I've seen you reading those nerd book that Aisen kid reads. You all are doing it! So what is happening th-."

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

Robbie licked his lips. Biting down on his tongue, he turned to find that Audrey Leonhardt who had just trudged up to the arguing siblings.

"What is it, Leonhardt? Can't you see we're trying to have an intelligent conversation?"

Audrey rolled her eyes with a taught smile. "Gee, with manners like that, you'll be taking your father's place as Minister in no time."

Lacie cringed at the sight. For as much as she was friends with Audrey, she did not want to be put into a position of having to defend either her or her brother. Also, time was ticking on whatever she was about to meet as the clouds drifting above seemed to be descending further. So much so, the spire of the Astronomy Tower in the distance was disappearing into a smoke fog. Lacie straightened the tie around her neck and cut into the argument before it started.

"Listen, both of you."

The pair turned to face Lacie.

"I don't need either of you talking my ear off right now. We've got a situation, and I need to get over there."

"That's where I'm going, too," Audrey said. "I overheard Laila Vaernes telling you to meet her at the Willow around now with the others, and i'd just hate to miss out on the fireworks this time. Especially since my brother," Audrey emphasized those words and faced Robbie. "Is involved and will be there. I'm going to help him in his time of need. Like a good sibling."

Robbie's eye twitched at the though of the other Leonhardt. Lacie could not help the small smirk in her face. Her brother was as easy to play as a kazoo.

The older student strode over the concrete and stood right in front of Lacie's face. His serious expression contrasted with Lacie's smug look. With a flick of his hand, Robbie pointed out at the meadow behind her.

"Then go. Go into that muddy meadow and ruin your precious boots. I'll follow."

Lacie's smirk dropped like a rock cast from a bridge. She pivoted back towards the field of wet grass and surprise mud holes. Robbie smirked. This was their downfall. Lacie was not the kind of person the leave her dormitory with any strand of hair out of place or any swish of makeup not properly applied. Now, she had to purposefully ruin her boots. Her favorite boots!

Robbie nodded to himself. This was her downfall.

Lacie took a deep breath. She had to remind herself of why she was doing this. Not just for her safety, but for the school. For the wizarding world. And yes, even for Robbie.

She took a step out onto the grass. Her foot hovered over the undeniably dirty ground.

With the speed of a running sloth, she lowered her foot until a disgusting squelch sucked her boot down onto the mud.

Then, she took her other foot and did the same. The seconds passed by like years as she lowered the other boot onto the mud.

Once she was done, she looked down. Her boots, caked and coated in brown mud, were planted right in the muck. Her heart beating in her chest like a firefly in a jar, she let out terse breaths as she realized she forgot to breath during this intense moment. Now just a few more of these, and she was at the Willow.

Robbie was shell-shocked. He could not believe his sister, as vain as she was, would ruin her boots just to spite him.

"Great job, Lacie," Audrey said to her friend. She gave her a thumbs up.

Lacie smiled to herself and looked up. Then, her grin faded. She blinked a few times, and then noticed how the meadow she faced had a large tree line that brodered the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid's hut had billowing smoke wafting up into the sky.

A few raindrops splattered onto her face.

"Hey, Audrey," Lacey turned back to her and Robbie. "Which way is the Whomping Willow?"

Audrey pointed behind her. "Oh, it's the other way. I just wanted to see if you would actually step in the mud."

* * *

Ask any ghost you find in the castle, and every single one of them will say that the loudest scream they ever heard in the history of Hogwarts was on that very day.

* * *

 **So...hello!**

 **Yes, so it has been a while. Many things have happened to me, but that is not important right now. What is important is that I am back now. I apologize for the wait. I feel I have let you down.**

 **So, I want you, in your reviews of this chapter, to tell me if you truly want this to continue. If you do not, I will move on to something else, but I may still use your characters as an apology of sorts. If you want me to keep going, I will judge that based off how many of you want that.**

 **Without your support in favorites and reviews, there is no reason to carry on, so please review as much as you can and tell me if you truly want more.**

 **But also, what did you think? Did you like the interactions? The writing? tell me what worked and what didn't!**

 **Thank you. See you soon with my decision.**


	28. If I Could Turn Back Time

Warren was a little surprised at the people that showed up a the base of the whomping willow. Alistair was rubbing his metal arm next to Beatrice, who was picking at a piece of leaf that lodged itself into Julian's messy hair. He shouted and smacked away her hand each time. Robbie and Lacie were arguing with each other as usual. Edmund stood by himself. He gazed down at the graze, his right shoe tickling the top of the blades. Calista leaned with her legs crossed on a tree stump, examining the rest of the group like a sculptor peering of their latest work of art.

Robbie looked up at Warren. His taut face fell, and he slunked almost behind Lacie. Calista, noticing the quiet student, glared at him. Warren stared back, his blank grey eyes surrendering nothing.

"Where's the princess at?" Calista asked.

"Sorry I'm late," Laila said. She, unlike the others, had taken off her robes. in place was a leather jacket with plaid pants and a grey sweater vest. Her yellow dress tie flapped around in the blustery breeze. Behind her, Callie was in tow with her hands clasped together.

"Any reason for the wardrobe change, Annie Hall?" Calista asked as she smoothed out her robes and stood up.

"Robes are hard to run in," Laila stated.

"And we may be doing that more often." Edmund said.

After a few moments, the group found themselves in a gaggle at the base of the tree. "So why is everyone here?" Lacie asked. I mean, my brother just wanted to tag along, but you all?" She gestured at the rest of them.

"Making sure Alistair doesn't lose a leg to go with his arm," Audrey pointed at him.

"Cant lose our quidditch captain," Beatrice said as she jabbed a finger at Alistair's human arm. "Also, Julian has yet to be put in mortal peril yet. It seemed fair."

"I can handle myself!" The small and vivacious boy chortled.

"So why'd you bring us here?" Calista asked towards Laila.

"Hagrid told me somethings being hidden in here," Laila said as she gestured towards the taller Ravenclaw next to Edmund. "If its Warren's ring, maybe we can put an end to this."

"And how is that?" Calista challenged.

"Well, if the person who owns the ring gets these powers, and Warren is the chosen one," Callie began.

"Then he should be the one to stop these spirits and wake Aisen up," Laila finished.

"You know what," Alistair said. He threw his hands up and started to head for the opening at the base. "I think we should go in. forget the questions. we'll figure it out when we get to it."

"I agree," Robbie said as he head towards the base as well. "End this nightmare."

Lacie huffed and flung a twig at her older brother. "I'm not going in there. It's probably all dank and icky in there. Mud and zombies and dementors and all of that stuff. It took three hours to do my hair," she said as she pointed at the French Plait her brunette hair was done up in.

"Nobody cares," Laila said. "We just need to get the ring and get out. Besides, Hagrid said only dementors were there."

Edmund cleared his throat. "I think Miss Burghley is right. We need to have a real plan. What if there's a dragon or something worse in there?"

"Aren't you Gryffindors supposed to be brave and stupid and all that?" Julian chirped.

Edmund considered those words. He shivered at the site of the black abyss that went underneath the tree. Truth be to himself, he never thought of himself as that brave. His entire time at Hogwarts so far, he had been one of the safest, most cautious individuals. He never got in trouble and never cost his House a point. Yet, Aisen was one of the few people in his life that was a friend to him. Not only that, but he looked and looked eyes with Alistair. That beautiful boy from Slytherin that never gave him the time of day. The one that wouldn't even dream of being in the same castle as himself. He gave him a heart-stopping smile as tilted his head.

"Edmund, Aisen would be so happy you went in to get him. Doing that for your friends is brave, right?"

* * *

Edmund had another deep flaw: peer pressure.

Even with Alistair's sweet words, he was still hesitant. Eventually, Calista threw her hands up and announced that she was going to hex all of them into oblivion if they didn't all go in. So, after some major prodding, he was staring at the dark entrance to the tree. All of the students lined up to head in.

"So we should go in pairs or trios," Calista said. "In case we get lost, we can at least hang on to whoever we are responsible for."

"I-I think I'll stay with Warren," Callie said as she stepped towards the stoic man's side. "In case anything about Magical Runes is involved."

"I'll go with them, too," Laila said as she flicked her wand out. Warren raised an eyebrow towards Laila.

"Why?" He asked.

Laila shrugged. "So you can beat anyone up for us."

Calista rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I'll go with this blonde over here," She gestured towards Alistair. "So he doesn't get into anymore trouble."

Alistair gave off a gentle smile as he stepped towards her. "Worried about me again?"

"Puh-leeze," Calista rolled her eyes as she jabbed a finger in his chest. "You need adult supervision so you don't die or something stupid. Make no mistake, the only reason I'm here is to make sure none of you die. Or if you do, it's at least properly reported in the semester's Hogwarts Fatality Report. Our school loses millions of galleons a year from faulty injury claims and I'm not going to be witness to it."

"Robbie, go with Leonhardt." Lacie tugged at her brother's shoulders.

"Why?" Robbie exclaimed as he wiped Lacie's fingers off him.

"Because," Lacie said. She pulled Robbie away and turned her back from the others. "I made an Unbreakable Vow."

Robbie gasped. "You what? With him?"

"Of course not," Lacie said as she wiped away a bead of sweat. The day was becoming more humid as the charcoal clouds hung overhead like a thick wool blanket. "With his sister. I promised that Alistair wouldn't be killed. In return, I got the next season's Flor Delacour Winter Wonderland collection."

Robbie pursed his thin lips together. "Makeup? That hasn't even come out yet?"

"I know, but Audrey Leonhardt made friends with this girl in Germany last year that is friends with some other friends who know her publicist. And she got me the latest collection. But you're better at Dark Arts than me."

"Lacie, you made an Unbreakable Vow for makeup?" Robbie practically shouted. "And, by the way, I cheated on my OWLS last year."

"Everyone knows that, stupid," Lacie spat in a hush. "But you're still better than him at it."

"Why can't you do it? You made the vow."

"Because I can't stand him."

"And I can?" Robbie's brown eyes twitched. "He's basically the worst thing that's ever happened to Hogwarts. And that includes He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Robbie," Lacie said. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it into hers.

They looked at each other for what felt like a lifetime. Robbie, as full of himself as he was, would climb Mount Doom for his sister. If it truly made her happier, he would do it. Not to mention, she was giving him puppy dog eyes, and he would rather drown in the Black Lake than have to say no to her puppy dog eyes.

"This better be quick."

* * *

The teams were drawn up. Calista, Alistair, and Robbie would run in first. Right after them, Callie would hide behind Warren while Laila would sulk behind them. Lacie and Edmund would be dragged in by Beatrice who would try to stop Julian from screaming at anything that leaped out from them.

"Alright, so we know the drill," Calista said. "Any hint of trouble, make sure the people behind you know. And if anything really goes wrong, go back to the castle for McGonagall."

"Hagrid," Laila crossed her arms. "He won't rat us out. And we won't be put in detention for the rest of our lives. Also, it was kind of his fault we know the ring is in there. He would be in as much trouble."

Calista nodded. Taking off her black robe, she hung it on a low branch to the side. Smoothing out the white dress shirt she was left in, her indigo tie bristled in the thick wind blowing to her right. She stepped to the hole and took a plunge into the dark void first. Admittedly, she was nervous. For her, what mattered was that this was her mission. It was a mission to save the castle and possibly a boy. She could end this wild goose chase right here. Like a vacuum sucking in a piece of dirt, she slid into the hole.

Robbie looked back at his sister and bit his lip. She gestured at him to head in. Robbie took a running start and dived like an olympic swimmer into the hole.

Alistair rolled his eyes. "Moron." He simply jumped down into the crevice.

What Alistair was expecting was to hit the ground or slide onto the debris-filled ground of the pathway through the tree.

* * *

He did not expect to fall out of a refrigerator.

Alistair yelped as he smacked his head on the hardwood floor. He flopped himself upright like a dying fish and turned back to the fridge. Open, it seemed normal with a few pieces of bread and salted ground beef in a translucent pot seated on a rack in the fridge. Around the rest of the room, he realized he was in a kitchen. A humble, barely used kitchen with a gas-powered stove and an iron furnace burning heat into the quant area. A beige counter with a lime-green counter top ran around the perimeter closest to the open window. Golden sunlight flowed from the window above the porcelain sink, slightly tinted from years of use.

What made Alistair gasped was a calendar hanging over a ruby rotary phone. Not only did he notice the language being different than Hogwarts, but the date was as well.

 _März 1944._

"Leonhardt. Over here."

Alistair got up and leaned over the sink. Poking his head out the window, he looked down and saw Robbie crouching in between the shrubbery and the yellow paneling of the house's foundation.

Alistair shunted himself through the window and crashed next to Robbie in a very ungraceful fashion.

"Where are we?"

"You tell me. I thought we'd be underneath a tree."

"Did you notice that calendar," Alistair said.

"What cal-."

"March of 1944. It said it in German, too."

Robbie gulped. "So are we...back in time?"

Alistair's heart dropped as he whipped his head around. Calista was nowhere to be seen.

" _Are you sure you aren't lost_?"

A voice speaking in German lifted itself over the quiet street. Alistair poked fingers through the shrubs and looked out at the cobblestone road. The street was quiet; a few empty shops with boarded up windows lined the street. Across from them, Calista stood in silence by a wheelbarrow of hay, a stone-faced expression plastered on her. She flapped her hands around in deliberate motions. In front of her, a tall, steel faced man with a black military uniform and black hat peered down from his large nose to Calista. Somewhat tubby, he was hunched over as he narrowed his eyes at the unusual girl.

" _Perhaps I should get a translator for you,"_ he said.

Alistair crawled out from over the bushes. Before Robbie could do anything, he slipped away and rolled over the top of the shrub. He jostled himself across the street as Calista tried to perform more sign language.

 _"Do you have your papers? Maybe we can go back to our quarters and we can find out where you're supposed to be."_

 _"Scharführer! Heil Hitler!"_

Alistair jumped right next to Calista and flung his right arm upward. At an angle right towards the military man's face, he flashed a perfect salute.

The man flashed his rotten, crooked teeth and returned the salute. " _Heil Hitler. Rottenführer Leonhardt! It's so odd to see you out of uniform."_

Calista could only glare at Alistair as he let out a fake chuckle. She had already figured out this was a scene that occurs in the past, but why was Alistair being recognized? Alistair, meanwhile, knew his German was not perfect, but it would suffice in this instance. He scratched the back of his blonde hair and reached over to Calista's shoulder. Wrapped around her, he brought her lithe frame towards his. _"Every good man needs a day off. Need to get ready for the big...battle soon."_

 _"I must admit, Leonhardt. I heard things about your proclivities, but I never thought you'd find attraction in a deaf woman. Or should I say, girl. She hardly looks over seventeen! Much younger than the Miss last week."_

Calista did not know what was said, but she imagined it wasn't good. She flashed a dangerous look in her eye, telling Alistair he had some explaining to do later. Alistair only responded by ruffling her hair.

" _The...er...aryan race has many perks, including aging much slower as you yourself can attest to."_

The out-of-shape and balding man chortled until he started coughing from his smoker's lungs. Beads of spit nearly hit Calista in the face, and she grimaced while trying to avoid his breathe. " _Very well. Don't keep her along too long. After the Officer's ball tonight, you must meet us by the Bridge to go over the defense against the Belgians and Americans. They should be here within days."_

Alistair laughed. _"Yes, Scharfürher. Heil Hitler,"_ he saluted.

The officer returned the salute and marched away. As he headed down the main street of the the town, he stopped and turned around.

 _"A quick observation. You looked taller yesterday."_

Alistair thought quickly. " _You know what they say about those boots. They add ten inches."_

The man laughed and waddled away.

Calista grabbed Alistair by the collar and dragged him over to the other side of the street. He grunted as his feet slapped the cobblestone jutting out from the surface of the road. Noticing nobody watching them, she flung him into the bushes. Robbie spun himself away from his hiding spot as he made room for the intruders. Alistair crashed with his back on the foundation and fell to the ground while crushing a few twigs. Before he could say anything, Calista crawled down and pressed her knees on each side of Alistair's slender frame. She whipped out a wand and pointed it at his throat.

"Spill."

Alistair licked his lips and hovered his hands over his chest in protective fashion. He wore a nervous smile as his voice trembled.

"My dad always told me I looked just like my grandfather younger. I guess we were brought he-."

"You were a Nazi!" Robbie whispered.

"No, my granddad!" Alistair said.

"You're granddad was a Nazi."

"Yes! I mean, no. He wasn't!"

"We should go and kill your grandfather right now. He probably did horrible things," Robbie said with furrowed eyebrows.

"No, but if you do that, I might not exist!"

"Not the worst trade off," Calista said.

"Look, you two," Alistair said. He struggled to get up. Calista scooted back as the Slytherin boy pushed his back onto the house siding. He brushed off the twigs on his shoulder and wiped a piece of dirt from the corner of his lip. "My grandfather was a spy for the Wizarding resistance during the World War. He worked with the French and I think I know why we were here. Well, I don't know _why_ we are here, but I know why we are in this time. My ancestor did something, and I think we have to help."

Calista put down her wand. She hated to admit it, but she perhaps overreacted. Surely, there was no way Alistair had anything to do with this. After all, he was to simple-minded to devise any scheme involving time travel.

Robbie, however, was unsure how to feel. Yes, he joked about Alistair being a Nazi since he was from German descent, but he didn't know that was true. Despite this, he was sure this was as much a problem with him as anyone else.

"What does any of this have to do with Aisen?" Robbie asked. "What does this have to do with the ring?"

Calista held her head. It was in literal pain as a thud bumped into her forehead like a bursting subwoofer. "I have no idea. Maybe the past is an important thread with the ring? Or the people involved in it? I don't know, but what do we do now."

She turned to Alistair. "Is anything supposed to happen today?"

Alistair gritted his teeth. Now thinking back to the calendar, he noticed the date was circled. He had no idea the importance of the date, but he knew something important involving his grandfather was going to happen. Was his grandfather here? Did he have to play the roll now?

"Here's another question," Alistair asked more to himself. "Where are the others? And since when did you know sign language?"

* * *

 **It's back!**

 **So...I have been a little negligent. I apologize. Moving, getting a new job, all off these things cause issues with updating regularly. And I am very sorry.**

 **I think since things are more stable I can focus on this more, but before I do. I must ask this: do you care? Do you still want to see this? If not, I had a plan for starting up another SYOC, maybe in the My hero Academia part of the world. In fact, maybe I would incorporate some of the characters here into that.**

 **Do you want me to keep going? Please let me know? If I get enough reviews, I will. Otherwise, i will move on.**

 **But aside from that, what did you think? What is going on? Do you like where these things are going? Are you intrigued? What did you think of the dialogue, writing, everything?!**

 **Please review! Let me know!**

 **Thank you, and I can't wait to hear from you!**


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